On the Outside
by Jessica237
Summary: To those on the outside looking in, nothing is ever as it seems. Calleigh, Eric, and Jake. Postseason five.
1. Decisions: Part One

**Title:** On the Outside  
**By:** Jessica  
**Rating:** T  
**Timeline:** Postseason five  
**Summary:** To those on the outside looking in, nothing is ever as it seems. A journey of love, heartache, and revelation in the lives of Jake, Calleigh, and Eric.  
**Author's Note:** This story is my baby, lol. It began in the hours following the season five finale, evolving and growing into what it is now. I love both ships and I make no promises as to how the story ends, but in getting to that point I've attempted to be fair to both ships to a certain degree, which is not as easy as it may seem. And finally, my sincerest thanks have to go out to Deb (randomwriting), because without her unending encouragement, this story would've gone absolutely nowhere. :)

* * *

**_Chapter One  
Decisions: Part One_  
- **

It was a warm night in late May; the humidity was uncharacteristically low for South Florida, making the night air feel quite pleasant. There wasn't a cloud in the night sky, and if not for the bright Miami lights, thousands of stars would've been easily visible twinkling in the sky above. It was the kind of night that might find Calleigh Duquesne enjoying a quiet stroll on the beach, or curled up in a chair on the patio, engrossed in a wonderful book.

Instead, tonight found her gazing out the passenger side window of Jake Berkeley's car as he drove through the heart of the city. A late eighties rock ballad played on the radio, filling the silence with depressed-sounding guitars and regret-filled vocals; something about knowing love and losing it, appropriately enough. It wasn't the kind of music Calleigh imagined Jake listened to, but then again, she'd changed since they'd last been together. Who was to say he hadn't?

It was the kind of song that under any other circumstance would have Calleigh wincing and changing the station to something more…more her style. But tonight the music fit her mood, and so she let it be. It was far better than those annoying radio commercials, and definitely leaps and bounds better than silence. Silence was just something Calleigh couldn't handle right now; it left her too alone with her thoughts.

So instead she sighed, leaning back in her seat and lazily drumming her fingers along the center console as Jake drove through the familiar streets to her condo. Staring out the window, Calleigh watched the streetlights as they passed, one by one. The steady pattern was hypnotizing; it lulled her into a state of half-sleep, leading the visual that had haunted her all evening easily back to her mind.

No matter how hard she tried, Calleigh couldn't get Eric's face out of her mind. Ever since she'd gotten on that elevator with Jake, it was as though Eric were right there with them. Throughout dinner, his face had peered at her from over Jake's shoulder, his broken eyes never leaving her own. Desperate to escape, Calleigh had trained her eyes downward, focusing on her mahi-mahi. But even then, his face, his wordless accusations refused to leave her. Her appetite left her quickly, though Jake didn't seem concerned until she turned down his offer to share a slice of cheesecake, something he'd never known her to turn down before.

The concern in his eyes had been genuine, and Calleigh forced a smile, waving off his concerns with her customary "I'm fine." She knew Jake didn't quite believe her, but she was grateful when he didn't press her further. Maybe he did know her as well as he thought he did.

But if that were the case, he would've known better than to kiss her in the middle of the lab. He would've known that Calleigh wouldn't appreciate that -- not so much the kiss, but that he'd kissed her right out in the middle of the hallway. It wasn't professional.

Jake was always doing things like that, just to press her buttons.

But there was something about the way he pressed her buttons; something that kept her from pushing him away. She wouldn't say she liked it…but she couldn't say she didn't.

But still, he could've waited until they'd made it to the elevator, couldn't he? Or until they made it out of the building, or to his car. He didn't have to kiss her in front of everybody.

He didn't have to kiss her in front of Eric.

She'd caught his eye, just as she'd stepped onto the elevator. The look on his face; the empty, broken look in his eyes had torn Calleigh to the core. She'd done that to him. She knew how he felt about her, and Calleigh might as well have taken his heart straight from his chest and lobbed it against the nearest wall before scooping the pieces up and tossing them carelessly into a blender. Calleigh had never seen him look like that before.

Not only had he looked hurt, but he'd also looked betrayed. It gave Calleigh the nagging feeling that this whole mess was her fault; like she'd told Eric what to expect and then done exactly the opposite. She felt as though she'd broken his trust in her, when she hadn't done anything at all.

The only one who had done anything at all had been Jake. Jake had sought her out. Jake had kissed her, while Eric had only stood by and watched. Eric had just as much of a chance as Jake had, possibly more so, and yet, he still hadn't taken it. Sometimes, hesitation could carry the cruelest consequences.

Calleigh herself hadn't done anything wrong. Why, then, did she feel so guilty?

_Because you didn't do anything._

The truth remained; she _hadn't_ pushed Jake away; she _had_ kissed him back. And even knowing that Eric had seen everything, in knowing that Eric was hurt, Calleigh had still left with Jake. She didn't know if it was because it was the easiest thing to do at the time, or if it was because she really wanted to be with Jake. Calleigh hadn't a clue what she wanted; she could barely tell up from down right now - how was she supposed to decide what she wanted?

She hadn't done anything, but in doing nothing, she had done everything. And that had eaten away at her ever since she'd left the lab. With a sigh, Calleigh closed her eyes, willing her mind to empty, but failing miserably.

_You could've at least stayed and explained everything to him._

But what was there to explain? Calleigh wished somebody would explain it to her. She was the one stuck in the middle, and even she didn't understand.

Why couldn't anything ever just be simple?

The light ahead flashed to red, and Jake eased his foot onto the brake, bringing the car to a steady stop. He scowled; there were three more lights on the way to Calleigh's place, and hitting one would mean hitting every last one of them. Not that he was in a hurry or anything; Jake actually didn't mind, for once. But Calleigh…Calleigh hadn't seemed like herself all evening. She'd seemed just fine to him earlier, but now, she was a totally different person. Within the span of a few hours, the flirty, bubbly Calleigh he'd fallen for so long ago had been replaced by a shell of her former self. It bothered him; it really bothered him, and he didn't know why, exactly. Even when they'd dated before, she'd had her mood swings. It was a part of who she was. But something was different tonight.

"Light's green, Jake."

Jake blinked, his foot back to the gas as he realized Calleigh was right. He glanced at her as her drove, wishing he knew what was going on in her head. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

Discreetly Calleigh brought herself back to the present, forcing herself to nod slowly. "Yeah," she murmured. "I'm fine."

A hand softly closed over the top of hers, and Calleigh looked over in time to see the concerned glance he shot her way. "You sure? You've been pretty quiet all night," he observed, his eyes back to the road.

Calleigh gave a small smile. "Yeah, I'm sure. I guess I'm just tired."

"I can imagine. You're just as much of a perfectionist workaholic as you were when we met," Jake commented, though affectionately. "When's the last time you had a day off?"

"I'm off tomorrow," Calleigh replied, slightly defensive. "Besides," she added, softening a little, "I love what I do; you know how that is. It's not like I force myself into work or anything."

"I know. I just don't want you to burn yourself out, Cal." After all, that was a feeling Jake knew all too well.

"You don't have to worry, Jake," Calleigh replied, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

He shrugged. "Well, I do." He let the sincerity of his words permeate the air, not speaking again until he turned onto her street. "I know I worried you enough in the past, Calleigh."

Calleigh tensed, unsure of where this conversation was headed. "Jake -"

He cut her off, though his voice was soft; caring. "Maybe it's just my turn to be concerned about you. And before you make one of your snappy retorts that you're so good at making," he paused, giving her a wink as he pulled into her driveway. "Yes, I am indeed capable of caring about someone other than myself."

Calleigh lowered her head, attempting to hide the smile that touched her lips. "I wasn't going to -"

"Sure you weren't," he teased, twisting to face her once he pulled the key from the ignition.

Calleigh stared back at him, trying to keep a straight face, but she couldn't. With a laugh, she looked down, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Jake remarked with a cocky grin, following her lead for reasons unknown to him. Maybe he just didn't want to let her go yet.

Within moments they were back in that same, familiar position, albeit a different doorstep in a different state. Despite that small difference, it was just like going back in time. Jake leaned casually against the wall, watching as Calleigh carefully extracted her keys from her purse. He smirked; she still kept them in the same pocket as she did so many years before. It wasn't the first strange, small detail he'd remembered over the evening, and he was a bit surprised at just how much Calleigh had changed, yet she was still the same Calleigh.

She closed her purse, looking up at Jake with a smile. The similarity of the situation was not lost on her either, and while comforting, it was also a little disconcerting. "So, uh, thanks for dinner," she said, slipping her key into the lock.

Jake grinned. "You're welcome. I'd been wanting to do that for a while, now."

"You didn't have to pay though, you know."

"Of course I did," Jake replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I asked you to dinner, remember? I wanted to take you out, so the least I could do was pay for it."

A slow smile made its way across Calleigh's face, and this time she didn't try to deny it. She tilted her head quizzically, sizing him up. "Okay. What have you done with the real Jake Berkeley? Where is he?" she teased.

He gave her a cheeky grin, taking a step closer to her. "He's right here," he murmured. Gently he brushed a strand of hair behind her ears, and Calleigh couldn't help but smile at the gesture. "You're gorgeous, you know," he said quietly, watching a soft blush rise in her cheeks. He held her gaze for a moment, long enough to convey his intent to her, long enough for her to take the initiative and stop him, if she'd wanted to. That chance hadn't been there when he'd tried it earlier, and Jake really hadn't been able to gauge her reaction.

When she didn't move, Jake leaned closer, softly lowering his lips to hers. There was none of the urgency from before, none of the demand. This was soft; sweet. When he felt Calleigh relax, Jake couldn't help but smile into the kiss, and his heart soared when he felt her arms slowly loop around his neck. He buried one hand in her hair, relishing in the softness. The other he wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly. Still feeling no resistance, Jake nipped lightly at her bottom lip, begging access; access that was happily granted.

Her lips parted for him with a slight moan, and in that moment, Calleigh couldn't have stopped if she'd wanted to. Eric's face still lingered at the back of her mind, along with the doubts she still couldn't help but harbor about Jake. But in that moment, there was only one thought, one feeling that could penetrate to the front of her mind. Beyond the fact that she needed this, there was nothing else. Beyond the fact that this felt _good,_ there were no other feelings.

Despite how he'd hurt her in the past, Jake seemed to have honestly changed. He was working in homicide, no longer undercover. He seemed just as genuinely attracted to her as he had been that very first day in the academy so long ago. And when his eyes were concentrated on her and her alone, Jake could still make Calleigh feel like she was the only woman around. He could still reduce her to shivers and breathy gasps of air when he was around. So why was Calleigh having such a hard time?

The answer flashed before her eyes as readily as it had all evening long: Eric. If not for Eric, everything would be simple.

It had begun slowly, right after Eric's shooting. At first, she chalked it up to having almost lost him, just as only a few years previous she had lost another close friend to the same fate. She called it protectiveness; she called it a strengthening of their friendship. She hadn't been able to be there for Tim, but she could be there for Eric.

But something else had changed. There was a tension there that hadn't been there before. Feelings had erupted that hadn't been there before. Or maybe they had; if they had been there all along, was it possible that those feelings were just now coming to the surface?

Whatever it was, Calleigh wasn't sure how she felt about it. Eric was her best friend. He'd always been her best friend. But was he still?

A few years back, she had been able to let Eric spend the night on her couch without a second thought. They'd watched a movie together; they'd acted like a couple of silly kids that night, and it was one of Calleigh's favorite memories. And now, she couldn't be in the same room with him without feeling some kind of guilt; some kind of unavoidable tension. She'd kissed him on the cheek and couldn't even make herself stay in the same room as him for any longer.

But it was why she'd run away from him that confused her. Was it because she wanted to do more than kiss him on the cheek? Had she been too embarrassed about it to look at him? Had she conveniently seen Natalia coming, and needed to get out of there before more questions were raised? Calleigh just didn't know.

All she did know was that nothing was the same with Eric. Nothing. Calleigh had probably just screwed up the best friendship she'd ever had, all because he'd admitted to wanting her, and Calleigh had admitted to nothing. She'd tried to skate around the subject, and it had all blown up in her face.

She'd seen the hurt in Eric's eyes; she knew that she was the cause of that hurt.

But Calleigh couldn't help feeling like he'd expected her to make an impossible decision. Right there, right then. She'd never even had time to think about it.

She felt the subtle touch of fingers skimming over her hips, and Calleigh met Jake's dark eyes with a shiver, feeling his desire so clearly. And if Calleigh were being completely honest, she wouldn't deny feeling that very same desire within herself.

Everything was certainly complicated; however, there remained the one fact that was blindingly obvious to her.

Eric had admitted to wanting her.

Jake had admitted to wanting her.

The only difference was that Jake had done something about it.

And it was Jake who stood before her now. Jake, who wanted her. Jake, who had treated her to a wonderful dinner like he'd been promising for the past couple of weeks. Jake, who, though Calleigh would never admit it aloud, had been the only man Calleigh had ever cried over after their initial breakup. Jake, who was standing here with her now, asking for a second chance.

It was Jake, not Eric. And in that moment, it was that simple fact that Calleigh chose to see, having had enough complications for one night.

Resolutely, she forced every last trace of Eric from her mind. The pain in his eyes had been too much; she couldn't deal with that tonight; she didn't want to deal with it tonight. She turned the key in the lock and pushed her front door open, and, making her final decision of the night, Calleigh reached out for Jake's hand, leading him inside.


	2. Decisions: Part Two

_**Chapter Two**_  
**_Decisions: Part Two_  
- **

It was past nine before Eric ever found the strength to leave the lab that night. By twenty-five after, he'd made it to his condo. Twenty past ten, and he was still sitting in his car in the driveway. Just sitting. Thinking.

The strength was there, but Eric couldn't find the will to go inside. What was the point? Going inside was no more productive than spending a few contemplative hours locked inside his car. If Eric did go inside, he knew he would eventually end up half-watching some pointless, late night thing on TV; or worse, he would find himself with nothing to do but go to bed.

It was bad enough to replay that scene while he had something else to try and concentrate on. But to replay it constantly in his mind, with nothing but the patterns on the ceiling above to occupy his eyes…he didn't know if he could handle that. He already knew, despite his exhaustion, sleep would not come easily tonight.

If it came at all.

A chance glance at a moment he was never supposed to see anyway had stolen every last bit of hope from him. For years he'd put a fence around his feelings for Calleigh, never allowing them to grow into anything more than friendship. And he had succeeded…at least, he had until just recently.

Just recently, those feelings had grown and spread like wildfire, burning through that carefully constructed fence. Once that had happened, there was no stopping it.

At first, he'd blamed these new feelings on the bullet in his brain. After all, it had been around that time that he'd lost control of his feelings. He told himself he was seeing things; that Calleigh was concerned because he had almost died. He told himself that Calleigh was just being Calleigh - flirty, friendly, all around bubbly around him. That was just Calleigh; it was who she was.

_Or was it? _

Eric had convinced himself it was, that it was nothing to get excited about. He'd even managed to brush off the fact that her lips had touched his cheek, convincing himself that it was nothing more than a friendly gesture. But then, Natalia had mentioned it, proving that it wasn't just him; maybe that wasn't just the way Calleigh was. Maybe the feelings he'd started feeling for her weren't as one-sided as he thought.

It was then, and only then, that he gave in. It was only at that point that he allowed himself to more deeply explore his feelings for Calleigh.

He should've known better.

He should've known it was too good to be true. There was no way he was what Calleigh wanted.

And it had taken less than two minutes to knock the truth of that home. Less than two minutes, but a visual that would haunt him for many nights to come.

That was why, over an hour after pulling into his driveway, Eric was still sitting in his car, unable to go inside. It was ridiculous; he knew that. It wasn't like Calleigh had ever been or would ever be there; there wouldn't be remnants of her around his place.

No remnants, just photographs and memories - things that would assault him as soon as he opened his front door. If ever there was a time that Eric resented Alexx and her omnipresent camera, this was it. In the foyer, visible as soon as he walked in, there was an old photo of Calleigh, Speed, and himself, shortly after he joined the team. Speed looked as though he kind of resented Alexx's camera there as well, but Calleigh? Calleigh was her usual, bubbly self. With a bright smile on her face, she'd thrown her arms around a surprised Eric just as Alexx had snapped the picture. It had always been one of his favorites, thus earning itself a spot in the foyer, between a photo of a younger Eric and Marisol, and a family photo from years past - photos which always brought a smile to Eric's face whenever he walked through the doorway, no matter how bad of a day he'd had.

It wasn't the only one; sprinkled through his condo were images of her; her bright smile, her golden hair, her beautiful green eyes.

Those same, beautiful green eyes had stared guiltily back at him from the elevator only hours earlier. Apparently she hadn't been feeling _that_ guilty though; after all, she'd still left with Jake.

She'd still left with Jake, even after everything that had happened between them in the last few weeks. Knowing Eric was hurt, she'd still left with Jake. It was life's idea of a cruel joke, and it was getting extremely old - get Eric's hopes up, only to dash them before he could grasp onto the mere idea of hope.

Hope. It was what she had given him earlier that day, in the park.

_"You know I trust you, with my life. I don't even know how I feel about Jake yet." _

Eric had taken her words to heart. She trusted _him,_ not Jake.

But then, she had betrayed _him._ Not Jake.

Maybe that wasn't fair. But then again, what in life was ever fair? Nothing in Eric's life, that was for certain.

He'd lost Marisol. She'd fought and fought, damn near beating the cancer that had taken her energy, her infectious livelihood. She'd fought valiantly, only to have her life taken anyway. Lost in his grief, Eric had sought out revenge against her murderer, only to come home feeling no better than a murderer himself. He hadn't solved anything, lest of all making himself feel better. It hadn't worked the way he'd expected. Nothing ever did.

He'd learned the hard way that no good deed goes unpunished. He'd stepped up, like he'd always been taught as a little boy, only to be burned again. Doing the right thing had ended with him being sued, compromising his already less than sparkling financial situation.

But he hadn't been alone. Calleigh had been right there by his side the entire time.

_"I've got your back."_

And she truly had. She'd done more for him after that than he could ever repay her for. She'd already informed him that he wasn't allowed to even think about paying her back either. He was her friend, and that was what friends did.

Friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Had he really ever stood a chance anyway?

Perhaps. But only before he'd seriously begun to embrace that chance. Once that happened, that chance was snatched cruelly from his hands.

Eric gave a defeated groan, resting his forehead against the steering wheel. Despite the urge, he refused to close his eyes, knowing it would be easier to see her face against the back of his eyelids than against the floorboard of the car. Even so, she didn't escape his thoughts.

She'd stayed by his side more often than not while he was in the hospital. Eric had never seen her so...so unlike herself, so bent out of shape. It hit him abruptly one afternoon in that too white, too sterile hospital room. Exhausted, Calleigh had drifted away into sleep in the chair at his bedside, and Eric had used every inkling of energy he had just to force himself to stay awake and watch her. And it hit him; Calleigh was anxious, worried, stressed out over him. What had rattled her unbreakable stronghold was almost losing him.

It was that dark, rainy afternoon when Eric had first allowed himself to really see Calleigh in a different light. He'd never been a stranger to the affection, to the attraction he felt toward her, but this was somehow different. This seemed deeper.

He wasn't sure how long he'd watched her that afternoon. All he knew was that it was long enough for the storm outside to clear, letting the sun peek through for the final hours of daylight. It was then that Calleigh stirred, her eyes opening slowly. There was just something about the way her eyes locked with his in that moment; something about the way she smiled at him. It was the catalyst that started his downward tumble into a feeling he'd never really felt before, and never expected to feel again.

She'd sat with him until well after the sky outside had darkened, ushering in the calm night. Eric at the time hadn't known why, but he was immensely grateful that she had. Even before Marisol, Eric hadn't been too keen on hospitals. They had always given him a bad feeling. Eric could work hours and hours on disturbing case after disturbing case, but at the end of the day, he'd rather work that case than be anywhere near a hospital, let alone be the patient.

It hadn't been so bad though, not with Calleigh by his side, holding his hand. It was the one time in their relationship that he'd allowed himself to be selfish. Calleigh was obviously drained, evidenced by the number of times she'd fallen asleep while sitting with him. But she made no indication of wanting to leave, and Eric didn't try to persuade her to. He didn't want her to leave him.

Even she had been reluctant to leave him that night, even though it seemed he was already asleep and wouldn't notice if she were gone. It was with a heavy sigh that she stood, lingering for several long moments over his bedside, gazing down at him. To Eric's disappointment, she didn't speak, at least, not until she was really ready to leave.

_"Sweet dreams, Eric," she murmured, knowing the nightmares he'd been plagued with since the shooting, and wishing she could chase them away for him. Her delicate hands enfolded one of his, her thumb gently stroking the top of his hand. She smiled softly down at him, wishing so badly that there was more she could do for him. He looked so fragile, so broken. Another moment passed before she released his hand, laying it gently back by his side. Softly she lowered her lips to his forehead, pressing a quick, gentle kiss against his paled skin. "Hang in there," she murmured, obviously thinking he was indeed asleep. _

_He wasn't. Despite the toll it took on his already exhausted body, he wasn't about to let himself fall asleep while Calleigh was still there. _

He'd felt her soft lips on his skin long after she'd left the room. Accompanied by her gentle, lingering scent, the feeling lulled him into the most peaceful sleep he'd had in days, perhaps even years. She'd visited him in dreams that night as well; it had been the first time since the shooting that he'd been able to sleep without reliving it.

In the past, dreams had always been a peaceful escape for him, even more so when Calleigh had begun appearing in them. He knew, without a doubt, were he to sleep tonight, Eric would see her from the moment he closed his eyes to the moment he awoke.

And for the first time, Eric didn't want that at all.

Tonight, all he wanted was to get away from her. Away from Jake. Away from the scene they'd put on in the middle of the lab. He wanted to wake up and find that this was a bad dream in itself.

But Eric knew beyond any shadow of doubt that that wasn't true. This hurt far too much to simply be a dream.

Lifting his head from the steering wheel, Eric nodded slowly to the dark, making his final decision of the night. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he did know he couldn't deal with this tonight. He did know that he was about to do what he'd agonizingly watched Calleigh do so many times before, but he pushed that from his mind. He didn't want to think about Calleigh tonight.

One last deep breath he took, and with that he turned the key in the ignition and backed once more out of the driveway.

He knew he shouldn't go far; after all, it wasn't like he had any vacation days left at work.

But for now, he pushed that little problem from his mind, along with everything else.

For now, he just needed to go.


	3. A New Day

_**Chapter Three**_  
**_A New Day_  
- **

Sunlight filtered in through sheer white curtains, lighting the room enough to rouse but not enough to be unpleasant. It cast a light, airy glow about the room, filling even the farthest corner with warmth.

Warmth. It was the feeling that permeated every inch of a dozing Calleigh and, seeking more of that blissful warmth, she stirred, nuzzling sleepily into the warm body that currently shared her bed. Little by little her mind retreated from sleep, and with a relaxed sigh she let her eyes flutter open, blinking in the morning light.

For a moment she simply lay there, relishing in the sensations, the memories of the night before. There was no question in her mind - she'd needed that last night. She'd forgotten just how…how _good_ Jake could always make her feel. Even after all these years, he still knew exactly what she liked; what she didn't like. Jake knew just what to do to clear her mind of everything but them, and she'd needed that desperately last night.

Calleigh stretched lazily, a sleepy smile touching her lips. She knew she was rested, though her body still felt tired, and silently she was grateful for having today off. It'd been so long since she'd been able to lie cozily in bed, long after the sun had risen. Beside her, Jake stirred slightly, though he didn't wake, and Calleigh lifted her head, allowing herself a moment just to gaze unabashedly down at his peaceful face.

Sighing dreamily, she reached out, gently threading her fingers through Jake's short locks. The corners of his lips twitched slightly in sleep, and Calleigh giggled softly. The picture before her was no less than everything she'd fallen for before in the academy. She'd always had a soft spot for that unruly hair, the stubble that grew along his chin, the same stubble that always tickled her skin as his lips covered hers…

Her mind was so blissfully empty of all but those wonderful, shivery feelings Jake had caused within her the night before, as well as every time she'd been with him in the past. At the moment, there was nothing that existed outside of his arms; nothing else mattered. Calleigh knew she would be content to stay here.

With a quiet yawn, she let her head fall softly atop Jake's chest, smiling as unconsciously his arm wrapped its way around her body, holding her tightly. The steady rhythm of his heart was comforting to her ears, and with a sigh Calleigh closed her eyes, allowing the sound to lull her back into sleep.

..

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. _

Tiredly Eric padded along the sand, slowly making his way down the beach. It was low tide and the beach was almost deserted, just the way he'd wanted it to be. He didn't want to make small talk, or smile, or even appear pleasant.

Then again, it wasn't likely anyone would approach him anyway; he didn't know anybody up here.

For the greater part of the night, he'd driven aimlessly up the coast, no destination at all in mind. He'd just needed to get out of Miami for a little bit. He just hadn't planned on driving this far.

He hadn't even realized how far he'd driven until he stopped for gas, just a little ways north of Daytona. Under his breath he'd cursed, feeling as though he'd screwed up yet again, but he hadn't turned his car back south. Not yet. Instead, he'd driven to a local beach, suddenly craving some fresh air to clear his mind.

Despite the cool air on his arms, he'd stayed on the beach, just walking slowly and listening to the waves crashing a few yards away. It didn't clear his mind of Calleigh; it'd be a miracle, or rather, a curse if he did remove Calleigh completely from his mind. But the visual that had haunted him most of the night - he had managed to push it away, even if only for a few hours.

The sky had begun lightening overhead, and Eric knew it wouldn't be long before the sun rose over the sea. He knew he was due at work in a couple hours, but there was no way he was going to make it back in time, even if he wanted to leave. He'd just have to call Horatio in a little bit; make up some reason and hope it sounded believable. He certainly wasn't going to spill the real reason why he wouldn't be able to be in today. He just hoped Horatio would allow him a little more leeway.

With a yawn he lowered himself to the sand, gazing off into the lightening horizon. With a sad smile, Eric recalled a similar time only a few years before. He'd come out to the beach early one morning, a morning no different than this. He'd been looking for some time to think, time to be alone. As it turned out, he'd only found the former since within moments, any chance of being alone had slipped from his grasp. And, not so surprisingly, he'd been okay with that.

There was just something about the salty air, the gentle sea breeze, and the sound of the waves that he found comforting. The beach had always been his getaway.

It had been hers, too.

_The breeze that blew in off the sea was chilly, almost cold, but in his numbed state it made no difference to Eric. He was grateful to even feel anything at all. There was no question about it - the past few days had been some of the worst, most draining days of his life. He knew he never wanted to go through any of it again. _

_It was only a few moments before sunrise, and Eric, finally giving up on trying to find sleep, had felt the longing to come out to the beach, while it was still dark and fairly deserted. There was something about the way he could sit on the sand and lose himself in his surroundings that never failed to make him feel better, and he was hoping it wouldn't fail him now. He needed to feel better; he needed to feel alive. He needed to know that he hadn't been the one who'd died. _

_He never wondered how she'd found him that morning. Eric simply chalked it up to coincidence - nothing else made sense. Twenty four hours in a day and miles of Miami coastline - what were the odds Calleigh would find him here at this particular time, so early in the morning? _

_He'd wanted to be alone, but as she lowered herself to the sand next to him, Eric had never been more grateful for her company. For a while they sat in silence, Eric's eyes to the sky, Calleigh's to the sand. Occasionally, the wind would lightly gust, causing a few strands of her golden hair to tickle against his cheek. He closed his eyes, the sensation somehow calming. _

_"I can't believe he's gone," Calleigh murmured after what seemed like forever, her eyes staring resolutely down at the sand. _

_"I know," Eric replied, watching her. Her face was shielded from him, and he couldn't have that. He'd just lost one best friend; he wasn't going to let the other hide from him. He reached out, gently tucking a curtain of blonde behind her ear, relieved that she didn't pull away from his touch. His relief was short-lived though; the pain Eric saw in Calleigh's reddened, puffy eyes sent a fresh burst of pain through his body. "You holding up okay?" he asked. Silently he reprimanded himself; what kind of a question was that?  
_

_Calleigh replied with a sharp nod. She let out a deep breath, glancing quickly to Eric. "I'm hanging on." _

_"By a thread?" _

_Calleigh gave a rueful smile. "By a thread," she confirmed. Eric nodded, and instinctively he reached out to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Calleigh sighed, laying her head on his shoulder, actually grateful for Eric's touch right now. It was comforting, and right now, she needed any kind of comfort she could get. "I really miss him," she whispered. "I don't think it's really hit me yet that he's - he's gone, you know? I just keep thinking about him…I keep thinking I'm going to walk into trace tomorrow, expecting to see him there, and I don't know what I'm going to do when I finally realize that he's not going to be there." Her voice shook lightly. "That he's not coming back." _

_Eric couldn't reply. It was as though his throat had suddenly closed up. He blinked quickly a couple of times, training his eyes straight ahead. He wanted to tell her that he'd wondered the exact same thing; he needed to tell her, but he couldn't find the words. All he could do was pull her close, his fingers soothingly stroking over her upper arm, feeling the goosebumps rise along her skin. _

_She shivered against him, and Eric tightened his hold on her, although it was just as much for his benefit as hers. After the last couple of days, he was afraid to let her go. "You cold?" he asked quietly. _

_Calleigh sighed. "I'm fine," she murmured, though the way she nestled herself tightly against him betrayed her words. But Eric didn't call her on it; he only continued to hold her. It was what they both needed. _

_The sky above gradually lightened, the deep blues shifting to pinks and oranges, casting the same tones over the water. Within moments the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon, climbing higher with every passing moment. It chased away the night, leaving in its wake the calming yet troubling light of day. It reassured him that the future was yet to come, while simultaneously hitting home the fact that the past was what it was, and it was far beyond Eric's power to change that. "A new day," he commented sadly, once more feeling the lump growing in his throat. _

_Calleigh relaxed against his body, into his embrace. "I don't want it to be a new day," she whispered. _

_Eric turned his head slightly, just enough to press a kiss into her hair. "Me either, Cal. Me either."  
_

_..  
_

A different sensation washed over Calleigh as she awoke for the second time. Before, she'd been cozy, satisfied. But now, the warmth she'd felt had dissipated, leaving a slight chill in its wake; a chill that came not from merely being cold, but a chill that could only come from waking alone, and not knowing why. Furrowing her brow in confusion, she sat up slowly, feeling her muscles protest the movement. A quick glance around the room silenced her fear, proving that Jake hadn't left - or, if he had, she'd soon be hearing about it on the news, since his suit jacket still lay draped atop her dresser, while his tie and pants took residence over the floor.

The sound of running water suddenly filled the air, and Calleigh turned her eyes toward the bathroom, realizing Jake was in her shower. Yawning, she turned her head, her eyes seeking the red numbers of her alarm clock. With a bit of a jolt, Calleigh saw that it was fifteen past noon, giving a slight chuckle. She hadn't slept in that late since her college days. And while it was nice, it was also strange. The extra sleep she needed, but she couldn't help feeling like she'd lost half of her day; like her schedule was now completely off-kilter, despite the fact that she had no schedule today.

With a relaxed sigh, Calleigh pulled herself out of bed, for once allowing herself to leave it unmade. She could do that later, if she felt like it. Right now, leaving the sheets rumpled and the pillows askew was perfectly acceptable to her. It amused her; usually she couldn't stand that. But maybe what Calleigh needed was a day to be lazy.

So, lazily she stretched, letting out a deep, contented breath, smiling at the idea of doing nothing all day. Maybe she could get Jake to fix his famous stuffed French toast. So what if it was already the afternoon? If his French toast was anything like she remembered, Calleigh would happily eat it for every meal of the day, every day. The man certainly had a way with breakfast, that was for sure.

With a dreamy smile, Calleigh started to reach out for her robe when something else on the floor caught her eye. She chuckled when she realized it was Jake's shirt, that silly, polka-dotted dress shirt. What ever had possessed him to wear that?

But then again, Calleigh was biased. She had a certain liking for his snugly-fitting tees.

Despite her slight dislike of the polka-dotted shirt, Calleigh quickly decided it was preferable to her robe. She slipped it about her shoulders, buttoning the front of it before breathing in deeply, loving the way Jake's scent clung to the material.

Yawning again, Calleigh padded her way out to the living room, after a brief detour to the kitchen to start some coffee. She curled up on the couch, grinning slightly as she wondered just what all she'd missed over the last few years on her secret guilty pleasure soap. If she was really going to spend the day being lazy, why not do it right? She reached out for the remote, but stopped mid-reach as her eyes were drawn elsewhere.

On the side table, next to the phone was a small, framed photograph of her team. It was a picture Calleigh loved, but she'd never really taken a close look at it before. There was Alexx, and Horatio, and Tim…but what really caught Calleigh's eye were the two people at the right side of the picture - herself and Eric.

She felt her heart clench. They both looked so…happy. No hurt feelings, no lies, no accusing eyes. She'd rested her head against his shoulder, while his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her close as though to fit them both in the picture.

Calleigh sighed, feeling the light, bubbly feeling she'd had disappear, only to be replaced with guilt, pain. She'd do anything to go back to the way they'd been in that picture; she'd never wanted to hurt him.

Impulsively she reached out for the phone, her eyes still locked on the picture before her as she dialed the number she knew by heart. She didn't even know what she was going to say to him, if anything at all. Seeing the picture, seeing his smile and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist had given her the uncontainable urge to hear his voice.

She rested her head against the back of the couch, her eyes watching the picture before her as she listened to the steady ringing. "Come on, Eric," she mumbled.

..

One, two, three rings passed before Eric crashed back to the present, realizing where the sound was coming from. He'd spent the greater part of the morning lost in thought, just sitting on the sand. In the past several hours the beach had become far less deserted, far less quiet. Voices filled the once peaceful air, but Eric paid them no heed, just as he paid no attention to the occasional strange look he received - after all, he wasn't exactly dressed for a day at the beach.

He wasn't really in any hurry to leave. Eric had called Horatio earlier, clearing his absence and receiving a lot more leeway than he should have. He'd come up with an excuse about his head bothering him, which wasn't exactly a lie. Even if what he'd meant by that was that he couldn't clear his head of Calleigh, Eric could feel a slight twinge beginning at the side of his head, though for the moment he simply attributed it to driving all night.

And now this wasn't helping. Realizing his phone was ringing, he unclipped it from his belt, squinting at it. He took one look at the display and scowled. The number was so familiar to him; there was only one person it could possibly belong to. And that was the very person he was trying to run from.

He had no idea why on earth she would be calling him. Frankly, he didn't really want to find out. He had a good idea of what had happened the night before, and Eric had absolutely no desire to hear about it.

Eric almost dropped the phone when he felt something soft hit the back of his head. Surprised, he turned around, seeing a red and blue beach ball laying on the sand, and a little girl with blonde pigtails toddling over to him. Forgetting the phone for the moment, Eric picked up the ball and handed it to the toddler when she reached for it.

"Thank you," she said with a giant grin, melting Eric's heart.

"You're very welcome," Eric replied with a smile of his own; a genuine smile. The little girl giggled sheepishly, turning and running back up the beach. Eric gave an amused chuckle, watching her for a moment before he turned his eyes back to his still ringing phone.

His smile faded immediately. Calleigh was certainly persistent, but in no way did that make him want to talk to her. He'd have to see her at work tomorrow; wasn't that soon enough? If she wanted to talk to him that badly, she could've stayed with him at the lab yesterday evening.

Scowling again, Eric silenced the ringer and reclipped the phone to his belt.

..

"I was wondering where my shirt disappeared to…"

Calleigh jumped, startled. "Jake!" She set the phone back on the table as she took in his appearance, and her jaw dropped. Jake stood before her in nothing more than a towel around his waist.

Jake smirked, watching her eyes roam over his body. "I'd get dressed, except I don't have another shirt." Casually he strode over to the couch, leaning over the back of it, his face inches from Calleigh's. "What are you doing up anyway?"

Calleigh tilted her head, amused. "It's past noon, Jake."

He shrugged. "Yeah, but it's your day off." Calleigh didn't reply, and Jake smirked, looking down at her wearing his shirt. It fit her well, very well. But the fact remained that he didn't have another one with him. "So do you plan on giving me that back anytime soon?"

Pretending to think deeply, Calleigh pursed her lips. "Maybe not. Maybe I want to keep it," she teased. "I don't like you in polka dots, you know."

"So what do you want me to do, Calleigh? Lay around your condo looking like this all day?"

Calleigh giggled. "I'm quite okay with that, actually."

He smirked. "You would be," he murmured, leaning in to nuzzle lightly at her neck.

A whiff of something quite familiar hit her nose, taking only seconds for her to identify it. "You smell like vanilla," Calleigh giggled, lightly playing with his damp hair. "Did you use my shampoo?"

Jake smirked. "Maybe. It smells like you." He reached down, tugging at the collar of the shirt. "Besides. You stole my shirt."

"Touché," Calleigh said with a grin, hearing Jake chuckle right by her ear.

He moved closer, pressing a soft kiss to Calleigh's temple. "So," he began, straightening up and moving back toward the kitchen, "you still like my famous cream cheese French toast?"

Calleigh's eyes lit up, and she turned around just in time to see him disappear into the kitchen. "Why, are you makin' me some?" she called after him, purposely thickening her accent.

Jake laughed. "Like I would make you anything else for breakfast," he paused with a teasing grin, "in the middle of the afternoon."

Calleigh grinned in anticipation; it was as though Jake had read her mind. For a moment she listened to him getting to work in the kitchen before reaching out for the remote, finally turning on the TV to her other guilty pleasure. But even the drama of daytime television couldn't keep her eyes from straying predictably to the picture on her side table. Her smile slowly faded, leaving confusion and that inexplicable guilt written on her face. This wasn't right. She should be happy; she should be satisfied.

And honestly, she was happy. She was satisfied.

After all, Jake was in her kitchen, making her favorite pastries; pastries that she hadn't tasted in years. He was here in her condo, back in her life after missing for all those years.

But the longer her eyes lingered on that picture, the more that happiness seemed to taint itself with confusion. That was the last thing Calleigh wanted - it wasn't often that happiness just fell into her lap. She wanted to enjoy that happiness, especially with that nagging voice in the back of her head telling her that she never knew how long it would last.

With a defiant breath, Calleigh reached out, turning the picture resolutely face down on the table before she stood, quickly padding her way to the kitchen.


	4. Conditional Invisibility

_**Chapter Four**_  
**_Conditional Invisibility_  
- **

He'd put it off for as long as he could.

It was stupid, really. Speed would've smirked knowingly about it, and then told him to get over it and do his job so they could all go home. Natalia would tease him about it and still manage to throw in some casual flirting of her own. Ryan would mock him, and then he'd hear about it again on the eleven o'clock news.

So really, it was up to Eric. He had to do it himself, since asking somebody else to do it would raise unwanted annoyances.

But with every step he took toward the ballistics lab, his dread of a little teasing began to pale in comparison to his dread at seeing her again.

All he had to do was see if Calleigh had gotten anything from the bullet. Eric could be in and out of her lab in ten minutes.

Oh, if only it were that easy.

The very situation had begun to haunt him on the drive back to Miami the day before. Eric couldn't help but see her everywhere, and it made him want to turn and drive as fast and as far as he could to the north. Canada was nice this time of year, he'd heard…

Unfortunately, this job only allowed him to run for so long. He was quickly running out of things to do - he'd already analyzed the fingerprints in his last three open cases; he'd already run them through AFIS and found the results. He'd already given the news to Frank so he could round up a suspect. He'd taken a call-out with Ryan, and then he'd even taken his lunch.

It was time to face it - there was nothing left for Eric to do but check in with Calleigh. As much as he wanted it to, that bullet was not going to get up and roll its way out to him. And even if it did, what could he do with it? Calleigh was the Bullet Girl, not him.

With a deep, steadying breath, Eric gathered the rest of his resolve and pushed through the door, effectively removing the final barrier between himself and Calleigh.

And as soon as he saw her, he wished he'd better prepared himself.

He wasn't prepared for the way his heart fluttered in his chest at the very sight of her. He wasn't prepared for the icy feeling that bubbled over his stomach, for the sheer longing that rose up within him. He wasn't ready for this. Maybe it'd be better to come back later…

But before he could turn and hightail it out of there, she looked up. "Eric," she greeted quietly, no emotion in her voice. "Hey."

Resigned to his fate, Eric pursed his lips and trudged his way into the lab. "I was wondering if you got anything from the bullet from yesterday's Jane Doe," he said, bypassing any sort of greeting in favor of getting right down to business. Perhaps if he kept it professional, Eric might just be able to make it through this little encounter.

Calleigh nodded, and Eric noted that not once had she met his eyes. "I can tell right now that this particular gun was recently fired," she said, lifting the gun from the counter. Her eyes flickered once to Eric before her attention was solely back to her work. "I was just getting ready to run a test-fire to see if the bullet from our girl came from this gun."

Eric sighed. "You mean you haven't gotten to it yet?" he asked, annoyed. Inwardly he cringed; he hadn't meant to sound so entirely petulant, but just the thought that he'd summoned up all his courage for nothing irritated him.

A glimmer of hurt flashed through Calleigh's eyes, but it was gone so fast Eric wasn't sure if he'd really seen it or not. After all, it seemed his specialty as of late was seeing things in Calleigh that obviously weren't there. Before he'd even had time to wonder if he'd imagined it, she'd lowered her gaze, once more avoiding his eyes. "It's not the only bullet I've had today," she said defensively. "I've been stuck on another case all morning. But like I said, I was just about to run a test-fire. You're welcome to wait, if you want," she added, grabbing the gun and swiftly walking away from him.

Eric wasn't sure what made him do it. He could've easily walked out of there, and had Calleigh page him when she was ready; that would've been the safe thing to do. But something had him following her to the firing range. Something kept him close enough behind her to catch the tiniest hint of her perfume, but far enough away that he didn't have to worry about his hands reaching out to her.

Even so, he crossed his arms as an extra security measure. Eric leaned passively against the wall as Calleigh took her stance. Despite his less-than-friendly attitude toward her currently, Eric couldn't tear his eyes away from her as she picked up the gun, aimed at her target and shot. He smiled; he'd always loved watching Calleigh shoot; actually, he'd always loved watching Calleigh do just about anything.

Taking advantage of her back being to him, Eric discreetly let his eyes travel over her frame, his gaze lingering at her blonde hair as it cascaded effortlessly down her back; and at her hips, his body itching to step closer behind her, his fingers itching to glide over her hips as he pulled her close from behind, pulling her deep into his embrace. He could almost smell the soft aroma of her silky blonde locks as he lowered his lips to her neck, trailing kisses along her skin as he felt her shiver in his arms…

It was a fantasy that sent a burst of pain through his heart, and Eric dropped his gaze, unable to watch her any longer. It hurt too much. His head bowed, Eric silently cursed himself again for ever thinking he might've had something with her. It was still by his own fault that he hurt; it always came back to the fact that he should've known better.

He lingered a few feet away while she compared the bullets, one from the scene and the other from the test gun. Seconds drew on into minutes; it seemed Calleigh was taking an awfully long time to analyze the striations. Eric lifted an eyebrow, puzzled. She was the ballistics expert. Shouldn't she have noticed immediately whether the striations matched or not?

Despite the space he kept between them, Calleigh could feel him behind her. She could feel the tension in the air - tension that never would've existed between them before. She could feel his pain, his distance, and again the guilt hit her - she'd been the one to put it there.

Her eyes concentrated deeply on the bullets, but the signals from her eyes refused to reach her brain. For a moment it was as though she were gazing off into nothing, her mind unable to comprehend anything but Eric.

The moments wore on, and the tension between them seemed to grow even heavier, almost smothering. It was uncomfortable, but Calleigh fought with everything in her to keep from squirming under the pressure. Eventually the silence became far too overbearing for her; it didn't matter at the moment what, but Calleigh had to say something.

"I tried to call you yesterday," she mentioned casually, gazing into her scope. She busied herself with the striations, but that didn't stop her from cringing at Eric's terse reply.

"I know."

Calleigh increased the magnification on the scope, though she didn't need to - she could already tell the bullet striations did not match. "I guess you were busy, or something."

"Or something." Eric crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. He wasn't used to giving her such short, brusque answers, but he really wasn't in the mood to talk to her. He just wished she'd get the hint.

Outside he was tough, but inside was a different story. Inside, Eric was bursting to tell Calleigh the way his breath had caught in his throat yesterday as he'd seen her name flash on his cell phone display. Inside, he was dying to tell her about the little girl who'd crossed his path yesterday.

Inside, he was hurting. And outside, Eric had to be tougher to deal with that. It killed him to be so cool toward Calleigh, but if it kept his heart from stinging further, he could deal with it.

She lifted her head, swallowing as she glanced over her shoulder. "Eric," she began, the tension in the room driving her crazy. He lifted a brow at her, though his eyes remained cold. Biting her lip, she turned completely to face him. "Look, Eric, the other day -"

He shook his head before she could even finish. "It's fine," he muttered flatly, not moving. He saw the confusion in her eyes, but he still didn't budge. Shifting on his feet, he cleared his throat, ready to shift the conversation back to the bullet. He hadn't wanted to shift away from that in the first place. "What'd you find?"

Calleigh gave a defeated sigh, turning back to her scope. "Striations don't match. The bullet you found at the scene doesn't match the suspect's gun. If he did it, it wasn't with this gun."

Eric lifted a hand, rubbing his face frustratedly, cursing under his breath. "So it's back to square one, then. Thanks," he replied, already halfway to the door.

Suddenly, the thought of letting Eric leave without trying to clear things between them was just as unbearable as the tension between them. "Wait, Eric!" Calleigh called out, before having really realized it. He turned to face her, his eyes cold, his stance hard. Fidgeting slightly, Calleigh searched quickly for something, anything. "You, uh, wanna grab lunch a little later?" she asked casually, like she had many a time before. She desperately wanted - no, needed - to sit down and talk to him. The professional, cold shoulder he was sporting was killing her.

Eric didn't hesitate before shaking his head. "No thanks. I already ate."

Calleigh was aware she was starting to sound frantic, but at the moment, she didn't care. Eric was one of only two people who had honestly seen her at her worst - the other was Jake; he was one of the few people that she trusted that much, and she didn't want to lose that. "What about a coffee, then?" she suggested, unwilling to just let her best friend walk away from her; to walk out of her life. "Or, you know, we could -"

"Calleigh," he said, cutting her off. He'd seen right through her. "You can say whatever you want to say to me right here, you know."

She looked down quickly, shuffling her feet. She didn't want to say anything to him right now. The whole point of getting him somewhere out of the lab was so she could have a distraction. She needed to talk to him, but she needed to do it when she could stare down into her coffee, or pick at a sandwich; anything other than stand in front of him, forced to look directly into his dark eyes. His dark, _unnerving_ eyes.

And really, Calleigh didn't have a clue what she wanted to say to him. She didn't know how to say it. What could she say, anyway? No apology made sense in her mind; no reasoning was logical. No lie was good enough; no truth could she be certain was true enough.

A momentary reprieve was granted to her as the door to her lab opened once more, another visitor stepping through the doorway, though this one more pleasant in demeanor than the first. He smiled at Calleigh, and while this prompted a bubbly smile of her own, Calleigh couldn't help but cringe inside. Here they both were, in the same room together, with her in between them.

And Calleigh had thought the tension couldn't get any worse. Briefly she felt a surge of jealousy rise within her - if the smile on his face and the ease of his words were any indication, Jake was currently immune to that tension.

"Got anything for me, Bullet Girl?" Jake asked, a teasing sparkle in his eyes. He crossed the lab, affording Eric a casual nod - a casual nod that went unreturned - as he slipped easily behind Calleigh. His hands brushed lightly over her hips, sending the ghost of a smile flitting across Calleigh's lips.

Calleigh pretended to be offended. "What, no hello first?" she asked indignantly, twisting her neck around so she could see him.

Jake smirked. "Hello. There, you happy?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well, it'll do, I guess. We'll have to work on that, though," she teased.

Had Eric become invisible? He certainly felt like it. But that wasn't what was bothering him now. No, what bothered him deeply was the thought of seeing this scene in front of him every day.

It wasn't that Jake and Calleigh were being openly flirty. It wasn't that they were being unprofessional - they weren't, at least, not yet.

What bothered Eric was that they were _only_ flirting. They were _only_ teasing.

Jake and Calleigh were only doing what Eric himself had often done with Calleigh. The flirting, the teasing, the utter closeness -- it was nothing different than what he and Calleigh had once shared. It knocked home a new realization, that he might've actually had a chance.

And it only served to remind him yet again just how easily she'd slipped through his fingers.

Frustrated, Eric gave a sigh, wondering if there was any need to wait around. Obviously Calleigh was a bit on the occupied side, and all the money in the world couldn't make him want to stick around to watch the rest of the scene unfold. But for reasons unknown to him, Eric found his feet rooted to the spot.

"So? Did you get anything?" Jake asked again, his eyes flitting across the scrambled mess of folders littering Calleigh's desk. "You know, you always did have admirable organization skills," he quipped.

"Oh, hush," Calleigh chided with a glare. "It's been a busy few days. People have been tossing files at me right and left, and I haven't had time to go through them all yet. Especially since I spent my entire morning trying to get a workable comparison for the bullet from your case and your case alone," she said, and Eric couldn't help the jealousy that erupted in him. He was no longer annoyed that Calleigh hadn't had his results earlier; now he was nothing less than hurt. In his mind, Eric knew that Jake was Calleigh's boyfriend. Eric knew that Jake was who Calleigh had wanted. But even knowing that couldn't stop the way his heart shattered when he realized she'd chosen to work Jake's case before working his case.

Maybe he was overreacting. It was just a case, and maybe there were extenuating circumstances. Eric knew it shouldn't have hurt quite that badly. But the reality of it was…it did.

"I seriously doubt you spent your entire morning working on this one bullet," Jake teased, lifting a challenging eyebrow. "It's just one bullet!"

"When you get certified in ballistics, Jake, then you can come back and tell me 'it's just one bullet,'" Calleigh retorted, her eyes narrowed slightly, though playfully. "Did you know I had to take the entire gun apart and get the same model from the gun vault before I could even get it to fire?"

Jake smirked. "Like you didn't enjoy every minute of it." He knew all too well her fascination with puzzles and guns - in the past, Jake had always joked about always having to compete with the two for Calleigh's affection.

Calleigh couldn't help but grin. "It was tedious," she maintained, "but I did manage to get a decent comparison."

Jake looked at Calleigh, an eager, hungry look in his eyes. "Well? What'd you find out?"

"Like I said," she began, biting at her lip, "I finally managed to get a clean test-fire, but then I ran the comparisons. Striations were way off. The bullet that killed your vic didn't come from the gun found at the scene."

Jake sighed, raking a hand through his unruly hair. "So my guy's gonna walk."

"For now, yeah," Calleigh replied softly. "Sorry."

"Not your fault. If the bullet's not a match, it's not a match." Jake shrugged. "I really wanted to get this guy."

Calleigh smiled. "Well, you may get somebody. I still have to run the bullet through IBIS; maybe something will pop up there."

"Thanks, babe," he murmured, leaning in and ever lightly brushing his lips over her neck.

"Jake!" Calleigh hissed in protest, though she couldn't help but giggle as well. "We're at work…"

"So take your lunch break," Jake whispered against her skin, raising goosebumps along her flesh.

Eric rolled his eyes in disgust, clearly having seen enough. Calleigh didn't seem to care that he was still right there in the lab with them, and that hurt more than he'd like to admit. He didn't care about Jake or what he was doing, but Calleigh? He was still bitter that she hadn't resisted when Jake had kissed her the other night in the lab, but now this? Sure, she'd protested in the beginning, but her giggle had belied what she apparently wanted.

He felt like he'd just been stabbed. The other night, maybe Calleigh hadn't known he'd watched the entire scene unfold. But now…how could she not know he was standing right there? Ten minutes before, Calleigh was all but begging him to listen to her. And as soon as he'd given her a chance to say whatever she wanted, she'd turned right back to Jake's arms. Once more, she'd chosen Jake over him.

Unfair didn't even begin to describe it. One moment, she'd wanted to talk to him, but the next, it was as though she could no longer see him. Eric knew he could tough it out if it were one way or the other, but he knew his heart couldn't handle the tennis match between the two. This conditional invisibility was killing him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Eric finally forced himself to turn away. Briskly he walked right back out the door, letting it slam behind him.

Next time he had firearms evidence that needed processing, he'd be sure to take it to Camden.


	5. Past Mistakes

_**Chapter Five**_  
**_Past Mistakes_  
- **

And people told Calleigh that _she_ was avoidant.

Obviously, those people had never had Eric Delko avoiding them before.

Calleigh had spent the greater part of the afternoon just trying to track him down. She stopped by the print lab, only to be told he'd gone down to trace. She went to trace, only to be told he was on a call-out with Ryan, one that Ryan came back from alone. It was almost as though after he'd left her lab that morning, Eric had ceased to exist.

By the time she'd finally tracked him down, he was seconds away from slipping away again. She cornered him in the locker room, beneath the low-power lights, those unflattering lights that everyone hated. They gave even Calleigh's face a sallow appearance, but that seemed trivial compared to what they did to Eric's. Every shadow on his face seemed darker, deeper. The sparkle was missing from his eyes, replaced by a heavy tiredness. He just looked like he wanted to go home and collapse.

By the time she'd found him, Calleigh realized she'd spent so much time trying to find him that she had no idea what she was going to say to him. He stood before her, obviously irritated, for nearly a full minute before he turned back to his locker. It was only then that Calleigh could find her voice.

She shifted on her feet, avoiding the urge to move closer to him. "Hey, Eric, look. I'm sorry about earlier."

Eric didn't even look at her. He barely reacted at all. "Don't apologize." _Don't apologize for not wanting me. _

Calleigh bit her lip, watching him carefully. "It was really unprofessional of me," she said quietly. "I didn't -"

"It's fine, Calleigh."

Torn by his flat, unfeeling tone, Calleigh stepped closer to him, gently laying a hand on his arm. Eric flinched, but otherwise continued not to react. "Well then, are we okay?" she asked softly, tilting her head slightly, wishing he'd look at her.

"We're fine," he replied in that same flat tone, though the way he slammed his locker shut shattered that lie. He shook Calleigh's touch off of him, turning toward the door to leave, just like that. How could she even ask him something like that? He was in love with a woman who didn't want him, and she wanted him to tell her that they were okay. Something was wrong with that picture.

Calleigh stared at him, slightly stunned. She'd never known Eric to close himself off from her, not like this. She wasn't ready to give up and let it go, not just yet. "Eric, you know you're my best friend. I don't want to fight with you."

"We're not fighting."

Calleigh let out a deep breath. "Really. Because it feels like we are. It feels like you don't even want anything to do with me anymore, just because of…" she hesitated, lacking the words to continue.

Eric paused, a hand on the doorknob. Part of him was livid; how could she stand here before him and accuse _him_ of not wanting anything to do with _her?_ The rest of him just wanted to turn and run as fast as he could away from this room.

"Calleigh, look," he said, finally looking at her; finally allowing her to see the pain in his eyes. "I get it, okay? I was wrong. Maybe I was imagining things. I'd hoped I was imagining things, because I knew it couldn't be real. But I thought there was something. And stupid me, I'd thought you'd felt it too." He shook his head, chuckling bitterly. "So I'm sorry I feel like you lied to me. I'm sorry that I can't be happy for you and Jake. I'm sorry I can't smile and pretend everything is okay between you and me."

The silence that fell over them after that was oppressive. The pain in Eric's eyes, in his voice was immense. His words had barely scratched the surface of his heartbreak, but there was only so much he could bear to reveal. He sighed, forcing himself to hold her eyes until Calleigh looked away first. Only then did he close his eyes; only then did he let his shoulders slump slightly.

Slowly he turned the doorknob, needing to get out of there. But once more, Calleigh's voice cut through the silence.

"Eric?"

"What?" Eric knew he sounded cold, but he didn't care. He was hurt. It'd been a long day, and he just wanted to get home and take an Advil, all the time wishing he had something stronger. His head was killing him, and with every moment that he stayed in this locker room, it just got that much worse.

Calleigh exhaled deeply, her back to him. "Is this how it's gonna be between us? From now on?"

For a moment, Eric was silent, letting her words echo around in his head. It baffled him how she could ask that. It was almost as though she were trying to blame this distance on him. In a way, it was true - it was Eric's fault that he'd let himself get hurt. But only after Calleigh had given him false hope. "You're the one who made that decision," Eric said quietly. "Not me."

Without a look back, Eric pulled the door open, quickly making his exit. He couldn't wait to get out of there. The door clicked shut behind him, echoing through the empty locker room. It reverberated through Calleigh's ears, all too happy to prove that he'd left her alone.

Alone, and feeling far worse than she ever had.

**..**

While the weeks passed quickly, they were nothing short of agonizing. Every time Calleigh caught Eric's eye - which wasn't often, not anymore - she was forced to acknowledge the pain, the anger, the sheer heartbreak in those dark orbs. She was forced to acknowledge it, knowing that she put it there. Eventually, Calleigh simply stopped trying to catch Eric's eye, unable to deal with the pain and confusion it caused her.

Confusion. That feeling had become second nature to Calleigh in the past few weeks, and she lived for the moments in which she was able to find relief from it. On the firing range, there was no confusion. There was only the target before her, the gun in her hand, and Calleigh herself. Nothing confusing about it.

She was free from the confusion early in the mornings, but only the ones in which she awoke in Jake's arms. If he was already awake and out of bed, Calleigh would wake with a strange coldness surrounding her. It brought back memories - bad memories - from before, from all the mornings so many years ago that she'd also woken alone. She couldn't help the sensation of fear that crashed into her; if she would admit it to herself, Calleigh was scared to death that he was going to leave her again.

But the mornings in which she woke in Jake's arms…those mornings, there were only herself and Jake. Nothing existed beyond the comfort of that bed; beyond the warmth of Jake's arms. But in a chain of events that began with the dreaded alarm clock, Calleigh would find herself at work, in the lab with Eric. And then, the confusion would hit her like a freight train.

She missed Eric so badly it made her head spin. His words, when he did speak to her, remained brusque, emotionless. Her stomach would flutter in anticipation every time he brushed by her, but somehow, it was always by accident, and nothing more than a quick apology would come from it.

She hated the way he looked at her - like she was breaking his heart every day just by existing. She could feel the scrutiny of his gaze if he was near when she shared a goodbye kiss with Jake; if Jake stood too closely behind her, or whispered secretly into her ear. Sometimes Jake would come and sneak her away at lunch. She could feel the scrutiny in Eric's gaze as he watched her leave with Jake, and as she returned from their lunchtime rendezvous, her cheeks lightly flushed and her hair a little more out of place than before. She hated feeling like Eric could see right through her; she hated feeling as though he were judging her every move.

Why couldn't he just stay out of her head? Why couldn't he just let her be happy?

A vibration at her hip pulled her from her internal conflict, and Calleigh retrieved her cell phone, glancing at the display. A smile crept across her face, chasing the frown from her confusion away. "Hey, you," she answered, her voice bubbly. Despite her inner turmoil, the fact remained that there was nobody else who could distract her like Jake could.

She closed her eyes, feeling a shiver begin at the base of her spine, just from the low, gravelly tone of his voice over the phone. "Hey, babe. You about ready to head out?"

"Yeah," Calleigh replied, absently fidgeting with a loose thread on the hem of her top. "I was just finishing up my last bit of paperwork for the day." Not exactly a lie, after all, she _had_ been doing paperwork before losing herself in her thoughts.

Jake winced. "Paperwork. Fun."

"Tell me about it," Calleigh laughed. "Unfortunately they won't let me play with guns _all_ of the time…"

"Yeah, that's such a tragedy," Jake replied, snickering. "If that were the case, I'd never get you away from work."

Calleigh scoffed. "I don't work that much," she defended playfully. "In fact," she added, knowing Jake was about to disagree with her, "I was just about to leave and come meet you."

Jake grinned, and Calleigh swore she could hear it over the phone. "Were you, now?"

"Uh-huh." She stood, gathering the rest of her unfinished paperwork, ready to put it up for the day. "I'm going to deal with this, and then I'm clocking out, and then I'll be over there in fifteen, so you can take me to dinner."

"Wait, what?" Jake protested, grinning nonetheless. "Dinner?"

Calleigh pouted. "A girl's gotta eat, Jake."

He chuckled. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Hmm, I don't know yet." She grinned. "Why don't you surprise me?"

"Surprise you, huh? I kinda like that idea," Jake quipped.

Calleigh giggled. "I thought you might. Look, I have to go, but I'll see you in fifteen, okay?"

"Okay. See ya, babe." A smile on his face, Jake snapped his phone shut. Fifteen more minutes, and then he was out of there with Calleigh. He had fifteen minutes to decide what to surprise her with.

"Berkeley!"

Jake sighed; perhaps that would have to wait for a moment. He turned toward the familiar voice, nodding in acknowledgment. "Frank?" At the beginning, despite the characters he'd been known to work with in the past, Jake had been a little uneasy around Frank. The detective had a burly sort of look around him, and it didn't help matters that he hadn't been the most welcoming toward Jake at first. But Jake had brushed it off, and after a few cases together the older detective seemed to warm toward him. They might still disagree - a lot - but if it came down to it, there was nobody else on the force who Jake would rather have his back.

Frank returned his nod before turning his head to the door. "Somebody out there wants to talk to you."

"Outside?"

"Yeah. Wiseguy was causing a fuss. Almost had to escort him outside myself."

Jake raised an eyebrow, gazing outside. "Who was it?"

Frank shrugged. "Wouldn't say. Wouldn't say anything unless it was a demand to see you." He paused, pursing his lips. "I'd watch him if I were you. I got a bad vibe from the guy."

"Thanks, Frank," Jake murmured, his interest now piqued. Slowly he wandered toward the doors, furrowing his brow. Who on earth would be demanding to see him? Jake's first thought was that ill-tempered DA he'd fought with in court the day before.

As he stepped through the front doors, Jake suddenly wished it were that angry DA. He wished it were anybody other than the man standing at the bottom of the steps. He'd thought he'd seen the last of that man on the day he'd officially transferred to homicide. And yet, there he was, standing at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him with a sneer on his face.

In the beginning, he'd been something of a mentor to Jake, though that certainly wasn't the word he'd use for him now. Straight out of the academy and dissatisfied with patrol, Jake had gone to him, wanting something more.

And something more he'd found, though in the end the cost was more than the gain.

"What do you want, Devon?" Jake growled, his eyes cold. He crossed his arms, stepping closer only so they wouldn't have to yell. Jake really didn't want whatever Devon had come to say heard all across the city. "Are you following me now?"

Devon gave a harsh, barking laugh. "Like I haven't been following you since the beginning, Berkeley. He paused, giving a thoughtful shrug. "Besides, somebody's gotta do it. You're not gonna keep yourself out of trouble. Your little episode with the Crypt Kings was evidence enough of that."

"Well that's over now, so there's nothing else for you to worry about. You can go home now and leave me alone." Done, Jake turned to walk away.

"It ain't over, boy."

Jake froze. "Excuse me?"

Devon took a step toward him, shaking his head when Jake kept his back turned. Had he taught the boy nothing? "I said, it ain't over."

Jake turned quickly, fixing the older man with a cold stare. "I heard you."

"Glad to know all that biking hasn't destroyed your hearing. That might come in handy, you know."

It was all Jake could do to stand still. "Don't play games with me," he growled, growing angrier with every passing second.

To Jake's dismay, Devon chuckled. "That, coming from you? Just a few years ago, you were all too willing to gamble away your entire life for a cheap thrill. What's the matter? Is it not so fun anymore?"

"You know exactly when it stopped being fun," Jake replied low, shuddering involuntarily. That was a part of his life that he never wanted to dig up again.

In the beginning, it had been a fantasy, just like living a movie. And Jake had been the movie star; he had been the hero. He'd gotten to be somebody he wasn't. It had been a rush like almost nothing else. He'd lived for the action.

And besides, in UC, there were no rules. Well, not like homicide rules, at least. Break a rule while working homicide, and it was probation or desk duty at the very least. Break a rule in UC…and, in Jake's experience, people just looked the other way. Which in some ways was good, because if he hadn't broken the rules, Jake would've been dead years ago.

But that was the catch. People just looked the other way…until there was the slightest possibility of their own necks being on the line. In UC, people looked the other way, but those people would turn their backs on a brother in a heartbeat, sometimes only to ensure that they would get what they wanted. It wasn't that he had to be careful about who he trusted; it was that he really couldn't trust anybody.

That was a lesson Jake had learned the hard way. And he hadn't learned it until it was too late...

The anger continued to surge up within him, and Jake quickly shook his head. He didn't want to remember any of that. It was all in the past. "You know what?" he sneered, "we're done here. I meant it when I said I was done."

"Yeah, and if I recall, you meant it the first time too." Devon snickered. "And you remember how well that worked out." Jake opened his mouth to protest, but Devon waved a hand, cutting him off. "That's actually what I'm here about, boy."

To anyone else, it might've sounded vague. But Jake locked onto the meaning of those words immediately. "What? That was over ten years ago!"

Devon didn't answer right away. He could see the slight panic in Jake's eyes - had he really thought this would leave him alone? Did he really think it was over? He shifted on the spot, clearing his throat. "Yes, it was over ten years ago. But something like this doesn't just leave you alone, Berkeley. Not when the truth is so close to the surface…"

"You know the truth," Jake hissed, clenching his fists at his sides. "I told you the truth from the beginning."

"Yeah, which was a really stupid move on your part, considering how badly it backfired," Devon taunted, snickering slightly. "You betrayed your partner. You helped him, and then you turned on him when the pressure got to you."

"What was I supposed to do? Lie? You know what he did!" Jake argued, his heart pounded in his chest. He remembered all too clearly what had happened the first time this subject had been thrown back at him, and he didn't want it to happen again. He'd paid his penance, hadn't he?

"Do I? I know what you _said _he did. But who would I believe, hmm? Him, once a dedicated, long-time member of our squad, having only a few mistakes under his belt? Or you, a rookie cop with a dangerous temper and a penchant for doing things your own way, no matter what the cost? I trust you see my predicament here."

Jake was beyond frustrated. But he did everything he could to keep from showing it - that had only gotten him in trouble in the past. "What does that have to do with now?" he asked dangerously.

"Oh, Berkeley," Devon sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "It has everything to do with now, and you know it. Like I said, after your little screw-up with the Crypt Kings…"

"That wasn't my fault!" Jake snarled angrily, taking a step forward. "My cover was blown!"

"Yeah. Mighty convenient, that."

"Just what the hell are you implying?"

"I think you know. It's just a little bit suspicious, if I do say so myself. Your partner died. You almost got framed for the murder, which, might I add, probably brought about a sense of déjà vu, but I digress. At that point, your fellow Kings started to turn on you, one by one." Devon's steely cold gaze locked with Jake's, daring him to deny it. "And then, when you throw that same, pretty blonde of yours into the mix all over again, having your cover blown starts to look less like an accident, and more like you did it on purpose. It's never been a secret that you wanted out, but it wasn't because you weren't having fun anymore."

"What are you trying to say to me?" Jake growled, crossing his arms. "Why don't you stop wasting my time and spit it out?"

Devon gave a another bark of a laugh. "My pleasure," he sneered, shoving a sealed envelope against Jake's chest. "Everything you need to know is in there."

Jake's hands came up to catch the envelope as a feeling of dread rose up within him. "I transferred over to homicide, _legally_," he pointed out, his eyes falling to the manila envelope in his hands. "You can't just show up here and force me to do…whatever it is you're trying to make me do."

"No, I can't force you to do anything," Devon conceded, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "But don't you forget - I can sure as hell try." With that, he turned as though ready to walk away, but for a moment, he hesitated. When he slowly turned back around, Jake felt a block of ice fall into his stomach at Devon's parting words.

"Just so you know, Sam is in prison right now. And I can put you right there next to him. Maybe even let you take his place."

Jake never heard Devon's footsteps fade away; he never heard him start his bike and ride away. His attention was completely stolen by the envelope in his hand. He swallowed hard, but he couldn't push down the trepidation brought on by that flimsy little envelope. And Jake hadn't even opened it yet.

What would greet him upon opening it? What would he find inside?

It had seemed that his life was finally getting back on track. He had a steady job, he was where he wanted to be. Most importantly, he had Calleigh.

Did this envelope contain something that would undo every bit of that?

Jake did_ not_ want to find out. He wanted to burn that envelope, without ever opening it. That part of his life was_ over_.

With a scowl, Jake tucked the envelope inside his suit jacket, just in time to hear the rhythmic tapping of heels on the sidewalk - Calleigh's heels. He turned to her, a smile touching his lips as his eyes found her beautiful smile. "Hey, babe," he greeted, barely resisting the urge to pull her into a kiss. Not an easy task for him, not at all.

"You decided where you're takin' me yet?" she asked, a sparkle in her eyes, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. Jake only wished he too could be oblivious to it.

Despite the apprehension that still ate at him, Jake couldn't help but grin. He wrapped a casual arm about her shoulders, gently leading her down the sidewalk toward his car. "You'll see, babe." His little unplanned meeting meant their dinner location would be just as much a surprise to him as to her. But Jake could live with that; as long as he had this, then that was what mattered. Calleigh was what truly mattered this time; she had always been what truly mattered.

And Jake was not going to give that up this time. Not without a damn long fight.


	6. Troubling Realizations

_**Chapter Six**_  
**_Troubling Realizations_  
- **

_It was the perfect late spring afternoon. The temperatures were warm, though not stifling, as the previous day's rain had ushered in a cold front, granting a few days relief from that dreadful South Florida humidity. The sky was a crisp, perfect blue, laced in patches with light, feathery clouds. Bright sunlight fell over everything in sight, only a few patches of the yard privy to the shade of a few trees. A light breeze blew in from the south, and Calleigh knew if she were outside, she would feel it tickle her skin. _

_It was a beautiful day, but it couldn't compare to the beauty that currently held Calleigh's eyes. She stood in the kitchen doorway, gazing out into the backyard, a wistful smile on her face. She could hear perfectly the soft giggles of the little girl swinging on the swing set; her daughter. _

_The sunlight bounced off of her long, blonde hair, making it shimmer as it trailed along behind her. Were she any closer, Calleigh knew she would be able to see the sparkle in her daughter's eyes. _

_Blonde hair, beautiful smile, small frame - she was a miniature version of Calleigh herself. _

_Her eyes widened as the little girl kicked at the ground, forcing herself higher into the air. "Look at me, Mommy!" she called out happily, laughing as her swing went higher and higher. _

_Calleigh could feel her stomach turning flips each time her daughter sailed even further into the air. "Not so high, Hailey!" she called out, barely resisting the urge to rush forward and bring her daughter back down to earth. Hailey was a risk-taker, in every sense of the word, and Calleigh didn't like it at all. She knew just how much to push her boundaries without going too far; without getting in trouble. But then again, as an only child, Hailey had always been given a certain amount of leeway… _

_But still, Calleigh couldn't help but be astounded at how much Hailey knew about the art of manipulation. She was barely six years old, and she knew exactly how to get exactly what she wanted. _

_Calleigh's ears perked; had she just heard a car pull into the driveway? Concentrating, she listened closely, smiling as she heard the accompanying thump of a car door closing. "Hailey!" she called out again, beckoning to her. "Guess who's home?" _

_Hailey brought the swing to a nearly immediate stop, a grin on her face stretching from ear to ear. She knew exactly what time it was, and she knew exactly what her mother meant. "Daddy's home!" she cheered, hopping off of the swing, immediately hurtling toward the house. Her excitement was contagious, and Calleigh couldn't help but feel her own giddiness bubbling up within her. _

_Just before Hailey shot past Calleigh and disappeared into the house, Calleigh caught a glance at the little girl's eyes. They were the one obvious feature that anybody could immediately tell hadn't come from Calleigh. _

_Instead of her mother's green eyes, Hailey's gorgeous dark eyes had obviously come from her father. _

_**..**  
_

Those eyes.

Calleigh had seen them so clearly that morning, in her dream. They gave her chills; there was just a certain quality about them that gripped her, unwilling to let go.

True, it was only a dream. But it had been such a visceral dream. Calleigh would swear she had been able to smell the scent of freshly mown grass permeating the late spring air. She would swear that she could feel the knots twisting in her stomach as the little girl on the swing - her _daughter_ - swung higher and higher, knowing at any moment that she might let go and jump, just for fun. Calleigh could still feel the pride swelling within her as she recounted the ways her daughter was just like her.

She could still feel the emptiness that had filled her heart upon waking; waking up to discover it had only been a dream.

But most of all, she could still see those eyes. They were familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. Calleigh knew that same pair of eyes was out there somewhere; she had seen it with her own eyes countless times, she knew. But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out where; who.

The problem was that while they were familiar, they were just unfamiliar enough to confuse Calleigh.

She had awoken before the dream could progress, though. The last image she could pull to mind was the quick flash of those brown eyes, and even that was growing fuzzy in her mind as time wore on. The more she had to concentrate on her morning case load, the more of the dream that slipped away from her.

Finally she'd managed to sneak away to the break room for a few minutes. It was quiet, empty, and as she took a seat at the table, she closed her eyes, attempting to relive the dream.

But she couldn't help wondering - why was it so important to her? It was nothing more than a dream, after all.

So why couldn't she just let it go?

**..**

The tiredness obvious in his eyes, Eric slowly trudged his way into the lab, fighting a yawn with every step. He hadn't slept at all the night before. It was becoming more and more common for him to spend several nights on end like that; staring at the ceiling for endless hours, tossing and turning from the time he lay down until the time his alarm went off.

He didn't know why exactly, but he had a couple of theories. There was a bullet in his brain, one that could kill him at any time. Awake, he might be able to do something about it, but in sleep, he would just…go. It was a morbid way to think, to live, but in the months since the shooting, the thought of death had never really left his mind.

And there was also the fact that he was far from being happy. He'd always been unable to sleep in the past when something was bothering him, so Eric assumed that could be part of it.

Bottom line though, Eric just wasn't sleeping. And it was getting old really quickly. Even he couldn't deny the circles that had formed beneath his eyes; even he couldn't deny that he'd been sluggish lately. He supposed he could take something to help him sleep, but to Eric, that felt like taking the easy way out. And there had always been consequences for that.

Slowly he made his way to reception, affording Paula a halfhearted nod. "Morning, Eric," she greeted, smiling. "Here - you've got messages."

"Thanks, Paula," Eric said, reaching out to take the offered notes. It was nothing expected, a couple of phone calls, a reminder for his next doctor's appointment, a note from Horatio regarding a case -- wait, what was_ that? _

It stood out from the rest of the messages only slightly. It was folded over once, open just enough to tease Eric's eyes. But what teased his curiosity the most was the scribbled name on the front of it - Cal.

He couldn't help it - he could already see part of the note. Taking a cursory glance around, he unfolded the note, his eyes scanning it quickly.

The nausea set in almost immediately. Eric had known it wasn't his message - it was Calleigh's. He'd known without looking who it was probably from. And he'd been right.

Right then, he knew he should've stopped reading. But he couldn't take his eyes off the slightly messy writing. He couldn't make his hands refold the note. He felt paralyzed; he felt just as he had that night that Jake had kissed Calleigh. All he could seem to do was stare at those words, just simple words on a plain, white sheet of paper, and yet, they were anything but simple, anything but plain. They just flat-out hurt, but Eric couldn't pull himself away.

_Cal_

_I'm sorry I left this morning without waking you. Dispatch called me about five-thirty, and I had to come into work. I figured, nobody deserves to be awake that early if they don't have to be, and you looked too peaceful for me to wake you. Besides, I thought that after last night, you needed the rest, if you know what I mean. _

_ I say we definitely need a repeat of that sometime in the near future… _

_Lunch later? _

_J. _

The words did nothing but make his stomach churn furiously, but he couldn't rip his eyes away from them. Why couldn't it be a note from him? Why couldn't Eric be the one to lay in bed early in the morning, lamenting having to leave because he only wanted to watch Calleigh sleep? Why couldn't he be the one to leave her affectionate notes? Why couldn't he be the _one?_

A noise from behind him startled Eric out of his daze, and hastily he refolded the note, stuffing it quickly into his pocket. He breathed a sigh of relief though - it had only been the elevator. A few people did step out of it, but none of them were Calleigh or Jake, further adding to his relief.

"You alright there, Delko?"

Eric spun around, glancing around until he found the source of the voice, his irritation growing. He wished people would stop asking if he was okay. "I'm fine," he mumbled to the AV tech.

"You sure? You look like you've just seen a ghost or something."

"I'm fine, Cooper," Eric persisted, only barely holding back a growl. Cooper seemed to take the hint though, and he let the matter drop. His mood obviously soured, Eric trudged through the hallway toward the break room, daring anybody to stop him along the way. Luckily, no one did.

But unluckily, as he slipped into the break room, he was greeted by a pair of deep green eyes - eyes that could only belong to Calleigh.

She murmured a quiet greeting, to which Eric gave a noncommittal grunt. Deep inside, below his own pain and bitterness, he was starting to feel bad about acting like this toward her all the time. Calleigh had stopped trying to press him, and while of course he couldn't blame her, Eric hated that she had stopped trying. He knew he'd pushed her away, but he couldn't help wanting her to push back.

With a sigh, Eric started toward the fridge, but as he passed Calleigh at the table, he couldn't help reaching into his pocket, the pocket in which he'd stuffed her message. He paused, holding it out to her. "This got mixed in with my messages somehow," he said quietly, unable to look at her.

Calleigh reached out for the small piece of paper, her hand quivering just slightly. "Thanks," she murmured.

In that moment, Eric couldn't find words. As she took the note from him, her fingers lightly brushed against his own. It sent shivers throughout his entire body; it was all he could do not to close his eyes; not to give into that blissful feeling. It was the first time in what felt like forever that he had touched her. It had only been their fingers, and it had only lasted a second, but the feelings it sparked in Eric would follow him for the rest of the day. That one, brief touch completely undid everything he had done to try and get over her.

But to his dismay, Calleigh's attention seemed to be genuinely devoted to the paper in her hand. She hadn't opened it yet; it was as though she were studying the outside of it - the quick scrawl of her name on the outside, the recognition of where that piece of paper had come from, and - more to Eric's chagrin - the hasty, messy refolding job. From the corner of his eye, Eric realized just how crumpled it looked.

Calleigh's eyes flickered up to him, and quickly Eric moved away, continuing on his trek to the fridge. He didn't really want anything - he was still feeling slightly nauseated from reading that note - but he couldn't continue to stand so close to her while _she_ read it either.

But by the time he'd pulled out a bottle of water, Calleigh still hadn't read the note. Eric figured she was waiting for him to leave, so he decided to oblige her. He strode toward the door without another word, but to his surprise and dismay, as he passed her, Calleigh called out to him.

"Did you read it?" she questioned plainly, still contemplating the crinkles in the paper.

"No," Eric replied, a little too quickly. He stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. "It was like that when I found it."

If Calleigh found his words too defensive to be the truth, she didn't let on. Instead, her face was passive as she turned her eyes back to that note, slowly unfolding it. Eric didn't know why, but he couldn't move. He needed to see her reaction; he needed her to be upset that Jake had brought even more of their personal life into the workplace. He needed her to be angry. What he didn't need was what he got.

As Calleigh's eyes scanned the note, it began with a twitch at the corner of her lips. That progressed into a small smile, and Eric could definitely see a pink tint in her cheeks. If anything, Eric could tell she was trying to suppress a giggle, not the angry reaction he'd wanted to see.

And he certainly hadn't wanted to see her reach for her cell phone, seemingly to call Jake. Once again, he was invisible.

But the advantage to being invisible was that he could make a quick escape without anybody actually noticing. He turned on the spot, ready to resign himself to another day of work. But before he could even take two steps, he came to an abrupt stop.

Out of the blue, a wave of dizziness crashed into him, nearly knocking him to his feet. Tightly he closed his eyes, concentrating on keeping his feet firmly planted on the floor. The spinning sensation only seemed to get worse, even after Eric was certain that it _couldn't_ get worse. He needed to sit down, no, he needed to lie down. But he couldn't, not without Calleigh noticing.

But it was too late for that; Calleigh _had _noticed. Her phone lay forgotten on the table in front of her, next to the note from Jake. She'd noticed Eric's abrupt movement, and then lack of any movement. "Eric?" she ventured quietly, slowly rising from her seat.

Eric didn't answer. He was afraid to open his mouth. He'd already been physically nauseated when he'd read that note. That and the sudden spell of dizziness were doing a number on his poor stomach.

Cautiously, Calleigh made her way over to Eric, calling out to him once more. He still didn't reply, and Calleigh gently touched his elbow, thousands of worst case scenarios running through her mind. What if something was wrong with him? What if the bullet in his head was causing this? What if he were to fall to the ground right in front of her? Calleigh wouldn't have a clue what to do.

After a moment, Eric felt the dizziness begin to fade. It had only lasted for a few seconds, but it had felt like hours. Little by little, the world stopped spinning. A sharp pain made itself known at his lower lip, and Eric realized he'd been biting it. When at last he was confident that he wouldn't fall over, he slowly opened his eyes. A slight bit of lightheadedness remained, but he could deal with that.

He felt Calleigh's touch at his arm, and he turned his head, feeling inexplicably guilty as he saw the worry that laced her beautiful green eyes. It wasn't as though he'd meant to do it, but he still couldn't help feeling guilty.

Gently, Calleigh squeezed his arm, sending a rush of sensation throughout his body. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I - I'm fine," Eric replied slowly, trying to discreetly catch his breath. He shook his head, blinking a few times. "I was just…thinking," he lied, hoping he sounded somewhat believable. He never really believed it would work; after all, Calleigh had always been able to see right through him, whether he wanted her to or not.

Calleigh watched him carefully, biting at her lip. "You're not - that wasn't…" she trailed off, not certain that she believed him.

He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring grin, though he imagined it looked quite scary, given his obvious exhaustion. It felt foreign to him; when had been the last time he'd tried to smile anyway? "No, it's fine. I'm fine, Cal. I just…had a revelation about one of my cases."

Slowly, Calleigh nodded. "Which one?"

_Damn it_. Quick thinking was more Calleigh's area of expertise than his. Eric scanned his brain quickly, trying to find a case somewhere, anywhere in his memory that he knew Calleigh was less than familiar with. He knew with one look into her eyes that while she didn't necessarily believe him, she wasn't intentionally trying to catch him in a lie; she was just genuinely curious.

Unable to hold her gaze, Eric looked away. "Uh, it's just a case from a while back that we never really closed. It was one I worked with Natalia…" He resisted the urge to scratch his head, knowing that one simple motion would give him away immediately.

To his surprise, Calleigh actually nodded. "Oh, okay," she murmured. She gave a bit of a nervous laugh, shrugging her shoulders. "Just…try not to do that anymore, okay?"

"What, figure out an answer to a case?" he asked, confused.

"No. I mean how you just stood there and didn't answer me when I called your name. You just…scared me, that's all." Calleigh admitted, lowering her eyes. She took a deep breath, and Eric could tell just how shaken she really was. "Look, Eric," she continued, fidgeting slightly, "I know we haven't been on the best of terms since…well, for a while, but…just promise me you're okay, alright?"

Eric gave a chuckle, dismissing Calleigh's concern. "I'm fine, Calleigh. If anything, I just need to get some decent sleep." He was saved from further interrogation by his pager. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Calleigh's concern, especially after so many weeks of _nothing_. But Eric knew he couldn't just look into her piercing green eyes and lie to her. He needed to get out of there. "It's H," he murmured, looking at the display. "I've gotta go…" Quickly he reclipped his pager to his belt, his feet already taking him toward the door. "I'll, uh, see you later."

In a hurry, Eric nearly bumped right into Jake as he escaped from the break room. He gave a brisk apology, not once looking at him. Maybe it hurt to ignore Calleigh, but Eric still couldn't make himself be nice to Jake.

Jake merely shrugged and made his way into the break room. "Hey, babe," he greeted, smiling. "Paula told me I'd find you in here."

Calleigh smiled. "Well, you found me," she replied playfully. "I got your message - I was just going to call you."

Jake smirked. "Well, I just saved you from wasting your minutes. What would you do without me?"

"Then I wouldn't have to use my minutes at all," Calleigh teased. "You know, you made me go over last month. I had to pay a ridiculous overage charge…"

"Baby, you could've just hung up the phone, you know."

"You would've just called back," Calleigh sighed, though with a grin at her lips.

"Yeah, probably." Jake cocked his head toward the door, through which Eric had recently left. "So what was that all about?" he asked curiously.

Calleigh's smile faded slightly, and she shook her head. "I'm not sure…" she murmured thoughtfully. What _had_ just happened?

It had been perhaps the most confusing conversation with Eric she had ever had. One moment, he was cold, just as he'd been for months. Then something had happened - Calleigh still wasn't sure what - and for a moment, it was almost as though they hadn't just spent so much time not speaking to each other. He'd smiled, he'd spoken to her without silent accusations in his eyes. But the relief of that had been overshadowed by a realization that was more troubling than the confusion Calleigh had felt around Eric for months.

Eric wasn't okay. He was lying.


	7. Past and Present

_**Chapter Seven**_  
**_Past and Present_  
- **

_The dog days of summer had officially arrived. _

_It was fifteen past four on a sticky August afternoon, and the temperature had yet to cease its upward climb. Outside, even in the shade, it was creeping closer and closer to the century mark. There were no clouds in the sky, no promise of an afternoon thunderstorm to bring any sort of reprieve. The air around the city was still; stagnant, and the humidity was just as high as the temperature. The faint breeze from the early morning hours had long since died away, taking with it all hope of relief from this sticky, Louisiana heat. _

_And while the temperature outside was closing in on one hundred degrees, the temperature inside the walls of the firing range had already surpassed that mark. Calleigh could feel the heat pressing down on her, the humidity sticking to her. But she paid that no mind; there was a more pressing issue on her mind right now. _

_Defiantly Calleigh stared straight ahead, her eyes on the target, her hands steady about the gun in her hand. Her headset effectively blocked out any outside noise, not that she had any trouble blocking it out herself. When Calleigh had a gun in her hands and a target staring back at her, nothing could distract her. The firing range was her zone. _

_Forcing herself to ignore the stray, damp tendrils that kept sneaking out of her ponytail only to plaster themselves to her neck, Calleigh put all her concentration into the task at hand. As she squeezed the trigger, bullet after bullet tore through the target at the end of the range. _

_Her tenth shot ripped through the target, and Calleigh set her gun down, pressing the button to bring the target in to her. Taking it down, she inspected her handiwork, a quick frown forming at her lips. _

_As if to add insult to injury, her neighbor from the next stall on the range slipped over into hers, grinning widely. "How'd you do?" the cocky voice of Jake Berkeley asked. _

_Calleigh glanced over her shoulder. "Seven of ten." _

_Jake's grin widened. "Really? Is that all?" _

_Calleigh scowled. "Like you're Mr. Hotshot. What'd you get?" _

_"Perfect ten." Jake beamed. _

_"Liar," Calleigh quipped, rolling her eyes. _

_Pointing to himself, Jake lifted his brow. "Me? Lie? I would never!" _

_"Yeah. I bet." _

_Jake snickered, resting casually against the wall. "What'dya bet?" _

_Calleigh set her painfully imperfect target down, turning to face Jake. A challenging smile came over her lips, and she crossed her arms. "How about dinner?" _

_Jake laughed. "Perfect. I'll have you know I enjoy my lobster." _

_"Yeah. Like I'm gonna be the one paying for it," Calleigh smirked. _

_Snickering victoriously, Jake disappeared back over to his side for a moment, reappearing seconds later with his own target. "Ten out of ten, baby," he gloated, waving the target in Calleigh's face. _

_Calleigh stared. "You cheated, Berkeley." _

_"So I guess that's your reasoning for everybody that's better than you? We all cheat?" _

_Calleigh narrowed her eyes, biting her lip in annoyance. "You're not better than me." _

_Again Jake waved his target in her face. "The evidence says otherwise," he proclaimed. "And unless you're insinuating that evidence lies…" _

_This wasn't right. Calleigh was the Bullet Girl. This was her territory. Not Jake's. It wasn't enough that he'd beaten her on the last written exam they'd taken. He'd flashed it in her face, gloating about his perfect score, while Calleigh had sulked over her 97. The lone question she'd missed, she'd missed it because of Jake anyway. She remembered studying the material. She remembered sitting on her couch, her book in her lap. But the material itself was a blur, as all she could seem to remember from that particular study session was Jake's lips against her neck, suckling gently at her earlobe, trailing agonizingly slow across her collarbone… _

_Discreetly Calleigh shook her head, attempting to clear it. All that was beside the point. The point was that this was her specialty. She was supposed to be number one. With a challenging glint in her eyes, she crossed her arms, staring at him. "Do it again." _

_Jake blinked. "What?" _

_"Beat me again. If you can, that is." _

_"Oh, I can," Jake replied cockily. "I can, and I will." He grinned. "Loser buys dessert." _

_Calleigh tilted her head. "I thought we decided on dinner." _

_"Yeah. For the first bet. You know, the one you already lost?" Jake reminded her cheekily. "Now are you gonna argue with me," he continued, watching Calleigh open her mouth in indignance, "or are you gonna let me beat you again?" _

_Calleigh glared, turning back around and replacing her headset. "Like you can beat me again," she muttered, her irritation growing at the sound of his snicker behind her. She felt him disappear back to his side of the range, taking with him some of the pressure, some of the tension. Calleigh hated to be second best at anything, but she hated to be beaten at her own game. This was her game; her zone, and she was not going to let Jake Berkeley beat her. _

_However, her growing frustration seemed to cloud her eyesight. The added tension within her transferred itself to her gun, having a negative effect on her shooting. Her score did improve, but only by two. And that was still far from perfect in Calleigh's eyes. _

_"Nine?" Jake laughed right behind Calleigh, startling her. "And they call you the Bullet Girl." _

_Calleigh refused to face him. "As if you got a perfect ten again." _

_"I did." He smirked. "Mmm, I'm going to enjoy dessert tonight…" he teased. _

_"One more time," Calleigh demanded, already reloading her gun. _

_Jake laughed. "Nuh-uh, Cal. I've already proven I'm the best." Cockily he sidled up next to her, leaning against the wall with a smug grin on his face. "Besides, I can't let you keep embarrassing yourself," he smirked. _

_Calleigh gaped. "Embarrassing myself? You're the one who's cheating!" _

_"Empty allegations, sweetheart," he quipped. "That's all that is. I'm not doing a thing that'd be considered cheating." _

_"You're distracting me!" Calleigh argued, her cheeks flushed, both from the heat and from being flustered. _

_"And that would actually be your fault." Jake winked. "I can't help that you're so easily distracted. And besides, you love it." _

_Calleigh ignored him, turning her back to hide her ever reddening cheeks. _

_Jake snickered, knowing exactly what he was doing to her. He loved playing these games with her. "You know, we can just put an end to this and get out of here if you'll just admit I won," he suggested cheekily. _

_"What? I don't think so," Calleigh protested, though she failed to anticipate Jake's next move. _

_He slipped closer behind her, skimming his hands over her hips before looping them around her waist, pulling her against him. "Say it," he mumbled, nuzzling at her neck. _

_Calleigh tried to stiffen, but she couldn't stop the way her body reacted to him. Shivers raced down her spine as his lips traced over her neck, and she squirmed against him. "Jake…" _

_"Come on," he murmured against her skin, sending a fresh wave of shivers over her. "Just say it. It won't kill you." _

_"It might." Calleigh felt her eyes fall closed as a tiny moan forced its way from her lips. _

_Jake chuckled, the low rumbling sound weakening Calleigh's knees. She hated that he had this effect on her. _

_Nah, that was a lie. She loved it. Jake didn't have to know that though, did he? _

_"You know, Cal, the faster you say it and get it over with, the faster you can buy me that dinner," Jake said with a smirk. "And I might even settle for dessert at home." _

_She felt his fingers graze over her stomach, breaking her last bit of restraint. Either she was going to have to say it, or he'd have her melted into the ground before much longer. She squirmed halfheartedly, not really wanting out of his grasp. "Okay, fine!" she relented, continuing with something unintelligible. _

_Jake grinned. "What was that? I can't hear you when you mumble." _

_Calleigh rolled her eyes, willing to bet that he'd heard her just fine. "I said you win!" _

_With a triumphant smile, Jake spun her around in his arms. "Now that's what I like to hear," he smirked, lowering his lips to hers. _

_Finally, something Calleigh _wouldn't_ protest. _

_**..**  
_

It was a memory that stood out plainly in Jake's mind. How could it not, when it combined two of Jake's favorite pastimes - teasing Calleigh, and being with Calleigh? Despite the fact that it had been several years ago, Jake could still remember the day as though it were yesterday. It had been a time when they still had all the world ahead of them; all the time in the world. Things had been simple back then.

Back then, it was only them. Just Jake and Calleigh. Back when the only complications in their lives were set before them as paper or practical examinations. There were no dark shadows of past mistakes. There were no trials or errors. There were no suspicions, no lies; there was nothing to hold them back. There were no manila envelopes that upon being opened could decide their future.

But the past was exactly that - the past. It had come and gone, leaving them now in the present. And in the present, everything was different. They _had _made mistakes. They _did_ have pasts that couldn't be run from.

They'd both long since learned the consequences of jumping headfirst into anything. Jake knew that Calleigh wouldn't be the same, carefree woman he'd fallen for in the academy. He knew that he himself wasn't the same person he'd been back then. Time changes people.

Still, even taking that into consideration, Jake couldn't get past the fact that something was off. He had known not to expect the same relationship they'd had before. After all, both of them were older, wiser. Things had changed between them. He supposed he should be ecstatic that Calleigh had given him a second chance at all, given the way he'd left things between them the first time.

But it perturbed him. There was too much that was different. At first, he hadn't noticed it - he'd been too caught up in his absolute joy of being with Calleigh again. When he was with her, sure, things were perfect. But if Jake was merely watching her; if Calleigh didn't know he was there, she seemed…quiet. Subdued. Downcast, almost.

She seemed to spend an awful lot of time just lost in thought. The Calleigh that Jake knew once upon a time would think as she was doing something. She might plan out the process, but she never let herself get lost in her imagination. She herself had called it a waste of time and energy, contemplating that which wasn't there.

It gave Jake an unsettled feeling, to say the least. Her behavior wasn't anything major - after all, people did need their own private time just to think. But for Jake, who had spent much of his life analyzing situations and the people in them, it_ was_ something.

The one thing that bothered him most of all was the way Calleigh would brush it off when Jake called her on it. He'd found her one evening curled up on the couch in her den. The TV wasn't on, there wasn't any music, nothing that she was watching or listening to. She merely seemed to be staring into space, nibbling thoughtfully at her lip.

**..**

_Slowly Jake approached her, finding her inattention to the environment around her troubling. Jake knew he'd stepped on that one floorboard at the entrance to the den - the one that always creaked beneath his feet. Usually Calleigh realized he was there seconds before he even reached that part of the floor. But tonight, he had stepped on it, it had creaked like usual, and Calleigh hadn't moved at all. _

_"Calleigh?" Jake called softly as he slowly crept up behind her. Still she didn't respond, and he lay a hand on her shoulder, alarm bells ringing in his mind when she gave a noticeable jump. He'd startled her. The realization was one that startled Jake himself. When had Calleigh ever been less than completely aware of the situation around her? Other than the times when Jake was distracting her, of course. _

_But this was different. Something was obviously wrong here; something was obviously bothering Calleigh enough to distract her. And that bothered Jake. _

_He watched Calleigh give a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief as he moved around in front of her. "Sorry I scared you," Jake murmured, lowering himself to the couch next to her. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of silky blonde behind her ear. _

_Calleigh merely shrugged. "It's okay." _

_"It's really not," Jake replied, shaking his head. Calleigh gave him a puzzled look. "Something's bothering you," he clarified. "That's not okay." _

_Calleigh gave a small smile, though she shook off Jake's concern. "Really, Jake, I'm fine." _

_Surely Calleigh knew that there was absolutely no chance of Jake believing that. She had always been terrible at hiding from him. With a sigh, Jake let it go for the moment. He slid closer to her on the couch, gently pulling her into his arms. To his delight, Calleigh didn't resist. Instead she shifted slightly, snuggling against his body; tucking her head beneath his chin. Her head beneath his chin; her body in his arms - the fit was exquisite. _

_His arms felt so wonderful around her, just like they always had. She felt safe, warm, cared for... Calleigh couldn't count the number of times in the past that she'd always found all of that in Jake's arms. _

_The one thing she hadn't found though…it was the one thing Calleigh had always needed in her life - dependability. Sure, she trusted Jake; she wouldn't let him hold her like this if she didn't. It was just hard to trust timing. She had never known where Jake's work would take him in the past; she had never known when that work would take him away from her. She would never know if he was coming back to her until the moment he walked back into her doorway. The unpredictability, the lack of dependability tore at her more than Calleigh had ever thought it could. _

_She felt a stab of guilt every time her mind reminded her who _had_ always been there for her. Who had never been involved in any type of shady work; who had been by her side nearly from day one. There did exist somebody that would help her up when she fell, if only she would ask. _

_Of course, the one thing she'd only seldom found in Jake…Calleigh knew she would find it in Eric. _

_Or would she? _

_Was Eric really dependable? Calleigh knew that, in his heart, he was. Calleigh knew that all she had to do was open up to Eric, and he would be there for her whenever she needed him. But it wasn't Eric's heart that Calleigh was concerned about. No, she was concerned about the bullet in his brain. She still wasn't convinced that he'd told her the truth that day in the break room. Would it forever be like that? Would Eric always feel like he had to lie to her about that? What else would he feel like he had to lie about? _

_And what if something happened to Eric? What if Calleigh couldn't get to him in time? Or, what if they were working a case together in some remote part of the Everglades, and something jarred that bullet in his head? What if help couldn't get to them quick enough; what if Calleigh could do nothing more than watch him die right in front of her? The thought sent an involuntary shudder through her body. _

_Jake tightened his arms around her, his heart aching. He wished he knew what was bothering her. He wanted nothing more than to make everything better. Jake hated to see Calleigh hurting, in any way. "Come on," he coaxed gently, stroking her back in soothing circles. "Talk to me, Cal." He felt her body relax in his arms, but he knew that the rest of her was far from relaxed. "What's wrong?" _

_"It's nothing," Calleigh murmured, closing her eyes. She just wanted it all to go away, except for herself and Jake and this very moment. She wanted to bask in the feel of his arms around her, in his intoxicating scent as it washed over her, in his soothing words as he spoke softly to her. What she didn't want was to talk. Words were complicated. And Calleigh was so damn tired of complications. _

_Jake gave a quiet sigh, letting it go. He didn't want to, but it wasn't like he wasn't keeping something big from her either. He nearly gave a shudder himself as that dreadful manila envelope entered his thoughts for the millionth time. Though he felt bad about keeping it a secret from her, Jake couldn't help thinking it was the right thing to do. After all, he wished he could keep it a secret from himself. He didn't want it. _

_Pushing those unpleasant thoughts from his mind, Jake closed his eyes, pressing a soft, lingering kiss into Calleigh's hair, letting himself simply live in this moment. Not moments in the past, not moments in the future. This moment._

**_.._**

The more he thought about it, the more paranoid that Jake became. If he plotted it all out in his mind, he could pinpoint exactly when he'd started noticing the subtle changes in Calleigh's demeanor - it coincided almost perfectly with the day that he'd received that ominous manila envelope.

Jake knew that there was every possibility that something else might've happened that day. Perhaps something had bothered Calleigh at work; perhaps something had happened to somebody she knew, and that had her perplexed.

But nothing could chase the fear from the pit of his stomach. Every time he thought about it, Jake was that much more afraid that Calleigh had found that envelope. He was afraid Calleigh had read it. He was afraid that something in that envelope had damaged her trust in him once and for all.

And that was the only reason he'd ever opened that envelope.

The idea had eaten at him for days. He was worried that Calleigh knew something that he didn't; that she was pulling away from him because she thought he was lying to her, when in fact he'd never even opened the envelope. Eventually, those what ifs became too much for him. Jake had to look. Before, he'd been all but ready to burn it. Weeks ago, after that unpleasant encounter with the man who'd been his guide in the UC life, Jake had slipped that offending manila envelope into the pocket on the driver side door of his car, intending to forget about it, and then he'd taken Calleigh to dinner, just as planned.

But it was late one night that all the questions became too much for his mind to handle. After he was sure that Calleigh had fallen asleep, Jake had slipped out of bed and crept quietly out to his car. It was then, pushed by doubt-driven curiosity, that he pulled the envelope from the side pocket of the door for the first time. He was relieved to see that his worries were unfounded - the letter actually hadn't been opened, but by this time, his curiosity had gotten the best of him. Fueled by that curiosity, he pulled the contents from the envelope, reading them for the very first time. Three hours he'd spent, looking over it, letting it sink in.

And then he'd shaken his head. _This is ridiculous,_ he'd thought, and angrily he'd tossed the contents back in the envelope, stuffing it back in the door pocket before heading back inside, forcing it from his mind once and for all.

But though he forced that from his mind, there was another issue that had taken up residence there. If it wasn't the contents of that envelope that had perturbed Calleigh, then what was it? What had her so bothered, so worried?

Maybe it was just her way of protecting herself. After all, Jake _had_ hurt her before. He wasn't proud of that, not at all. He knew all too well that he was lucky to have her back in his life at all.

But if Calleigh couldn't trust him, could he really have a chance?

It was the latest doubt that had found its way on top of Jake's list of things he wasn't sure of.

It was those thoughts that plagued his mind on this particular sunny day. His mind a million miles away, Jake pulled into the driveway of a large, obviously well-kept home in the Gables. It was a good neighborhood; the house and lawn were both perfect, and it seemed like the last place where a domestic dispute would become a homicide. Three stories, a large green yard, white fence surrounding it - the only thing out of place about the house was the wide open front door.

Jake cut off the engine and stepped out of the car, slowly making his way up the walkway, led by a couple of patrol officers. Once they made sure the house was clear, Jake moved inside, immediately hit with the scent of blood. He followed it to a large, ornate living room where a young woman lay dead.

"Damn," he muttered, seeing the amount of blood around her. Carefully he moved around the room, avoiding the pool of blood, as well as the shards of broken glass as he waited for CSI and the ME to arrive.

It was then that he heard it - a small thump coming from the closet. It was faint, but it was there nonetheless, and it was enough to stop Jake in his tracks. Listening closely, he took a couple steps toward the closet, stopping as once more the noise sounded.

Drawing his gun, Jake slowly crept toward the closet, his heart pounding. "Miami-Dade PD," he called out. "Come out with your hands up."

There was a slight shuffling from within the closet, but the door remained closed. Jake waited another moment before taking matters into his own hands.

Hand shaking only slightly, he reached out and quickly pulled the door open, revealing not the eyes of a cold-blooded killer, but a pair of frightened green ones.


	8. Moments

_**Chapter Eight**_  
**_Moments_  
- **

The very situation that Calleigh had daydreamed about weeks before was now upon her, and now that it was, she couldn't believe she'd ever wanted it.

Forty-five minutes before, they'd gotten the call-out. Apparent homicide, in the Gables. Ryan and Horatio were working their own case, and Natalia was off. That left Eric and Calleigh.

_"Looks like it's you and me," Calleigh said, giving a friendly smile. That smile faded when Eric only nodded, not looking at her. Calleigh sighed; she missed her best friend. It seemed as though that day in the break room had been a fluke - Eric was no more open with her now than he was before. Their friendship had once been one that Calleigh thought could withstand anything; they were just that close. _

_But then, everything had gotten complicated. Friendship wasn't only friendship any longer, and it seemed no longer strong enough to stand simply on that. It had been her worst fear from the beginning - deeper feelings had surfaced, and their relationship seemed to have crumbled. _

_She'd tried to save their friendship by keeping it just that, and yet, she'd lost it anyway. _

_With a dejected sigh, Calleigh grabbed her kit. "I'll drive," she offered. _

_"I think I'll drive myself," Eric replied flatly, already heading for the door. _

_Calleigh didn't know what made her do it, but before she could stop herself the words were out of her mouth. "Well, I'll ride with you." Eric gave her an odd look. "Save gas, you know," she added awkwardly. _

_Eric watched her for a moment. "Fine," he sighed. "Let's go." _

Weeks before, Calleigh would've given anything to get Eric alone long enough to talk to him. Now, she'd give anything just to get out of this Hummer. Eric had kept his eyes on the road the entire time, barely even acknowledging he had a passenger.

The first five minutes of that had been bearable. But five became ten, and Calleigh grew uncomfortable. She squirmed slightly, not missing the way Eric continued to ignore her. The silence was driving her crazy, but the only conversation topics that came to her mind were the weather and Jake, so wisely she kept her mouth shut.

Ten minutes became fifteen, and by the time fifteen became twenty, they had come to a dead stop on the highway.

"What's going on up there?" Calleigh asked curiously, craning her neck.

"Wreck, probably," Eric muttered, unable to see much more than the telltale flashes of blue lights up ahead. "Should've taken the back roads."

Calleigh gave a humorless chuckle. "The last time I tried taking the back roads ended up with me at the bottom of the canal, remember?"

She'd meant it as a bit of dry humor to lighten the tension a little, but Eric couldn't stop the cold chill that ran through his body. Yes, he remembered that, all right. He didn't think he'd ever forget.

He'd been the one on the phone with her.

The case had been the focal point of that phone call, of course. Calleigh had been convinced she could find a shooter, and Eric certainly hadn't doubted her. She'd mentioned having to take the back roads to get back to the lab. Eric had chuckled, teasing her about her driving, and about how she'd better hurry up since he didn't have all day.

He'd expected a sassy retort in return, but what he'd gotten was a loud crash and a startled gasp. His heart skipped a beat, and he'd called her name a couple times. He'd managed to stay calm until he heard the splash. And then the line went dead.

And until Eric got to the scene; until he was able to see her with his own eyes, his heart had pounded like never before. His stomach had churned; his mind had raced. He could honestly count the number of times in his life that he'd been that scared on one hand, and he'd still have fingers left over.

Only barely had he been able to resist pulling her into his arms. There she was in front of him, a blanket around her shoulders that did nothing to curb her shivers, her hair damp and her makeup smudged, yet not looking any less beautiful. Her eyes held not their usual sparkle, but a slight flicker of vulnerability, something Eric had never, ever seen in Calleigh. And that frightened him, all over again.

It wasn't a pleasant memory, and Eric simply stared ahead, unable to reply. He bit the inside of his cheek, willing that cold feeling within to dissipate.

Calleigh frowned, biting at her own lip. Her attempt at wit, however dry, had backfired. It had only made everything worse. With a sigh, Calleigh turned her head slowly, taking Eric in. It pained her to think that in was still bitter, still hurt about how things had turned out. It hurt to know that a single kiss had cost her her best friend.

_But it was never just a single kiss, now was it? _

Her frown deepened. When had her love life become so complicated? Sure, she'd never found relationships particularly easy, but this was ridiculous. Calleigh wasn't sure how much longer she could deal with this. It was tearing her apart.

Discreetly, Calleigh let her eyes linger on her companion. He looked tired so often lately. His shoulders always seemed to slump. The twinkle had gone from his eyes, and if she ever saw him smile anymore, it wasn't real, it wasn't for long, and it certainly wasn't when he knew Calleigh was around.

Without realizing it, she'd let her guard down while watching him. She'd allowed herself to watch him for a second too long. She'd let him catch her. On purpose?

Maybe. Calleigh honestly wasn't sure.

Eric felt her eyes on him. In the past, he might've smirked, a cocky remark leaving his lips; one that he knew he should be smacked for, but knew he wouldn't because he and Calleigh had always teased each other like that. But not now. Now he only turned his head, giving her an appraising look. "What?"

Calleigh shook her head, turning her eyes back to the window. "Nothing," she said softly, feeling slightly embarrassed that he'd caught her looking.

The corners of his lips twitched, the closest he'd come to a real smile in a long time. This time he couldn't stop it. "No, really. What?" he asked again, this time the amusement obvious in his voice. He even twisted slightly in his seat, fixing Calleigh with an interested gaze.

Calleigh was slightly floored. Weeks and weeks had passed with her trying to get Eric to talk, to smile, and after all that, it only took staring at him? How much more confusing could he get? Feeling his eyes, she slowly turned her head, lifting her right hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, her typical nervous tendency, pausing only for a second as Eric's eyes flickered toward that small movement. "Really, Eric, it's nothing," she said softly, shaking her head. A smile threatened to break upon her own lips, and Calleigh couldn't for the life of her figure out why. The reasons for which she'd been watching him were hardly anything to smile about.

It passed quickly, broken by the piercing sound of a horn behind them, but it had been a moment nonetheless. The connection between their eyes terminated, Calleigh turned her gaze back out the window, just as Eric turned back to the road before them. It was then, and only then that Calleigh stopped fighting, allowing a tiny smile to touch her lips.

For a moment, despite the fact that only minimal words had been exchanged, it had felt like old times. Before hearts had been broken, before trust had been shattered; before things had gotten complicated.

Just like old times.

**..**

Nearly forty-five minutes after the initial call-out, Eric and Calleigh finally made it to the scene. Making up for that lost time, they quickly flashed their badges at the yellow tape and made their way inside.

Jake lifted an eyebrow as he watched them enter together. An unsettled feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, one that he just couldn't shake. It was strange; he'd been fine while alone in the room full of blood and a dead body, but the moment that Calleigh and Eric entered the room, Jake felt…strange. He couldn't think of any other word for it. "What took so long?" he asked, trying to fight it.

"Wreck on the highway," Eric replied shortly, never once looking at Jake. "What've we got here?"

"Domestic dispute turned homicide," Jake replied, speaking mostly to Calleigh.

But before Calleigh could open her mouth, it was Eric who replied. "Yeah. I can see that."

Calleigh closed her eyes; they'd been in the room together for less than two minutes, and already she could feel the tension bubbling. To her relief, though, Jake merely narrowed his eyes instead of retorting. "Twenty-nine year old stay-at-home mom," he said, choosing to get straight to the point. "The windows were wide open, and the neighbors heard arguing. They said that was nothing new with this couple."

"Well, I'd say this is something very new," Eric commented, nodding toward the body.

Jake couldn't help but feel taken aback at the bitterness in Eric's voice; it was almost like the CSI was attacking him. But for what? What had Jake done to him? He honestly didn't know. Maybe he was just always bitter like this; it wasn't like Jake had worked with him enough to know how he was in general. "Well, first time for everything, you know?" He shifted his eyes to Calleigh before continuing. "Anyway, the neighbors heard the arguing, then heard gunshots. That's when they called it in. Once patrol got here, this is what they found."

"You said stay-at-home mom," Calleigh pondered aloud, tilting her head.

Jake nodded. "Yeah. Little girl, hiding in the closet. She's probably been in there all day," he said with a sigh, pointing to the closet. "She won't come out, won't talk to anybody, or let anybody get near her. Tried to scratch me when I tried to coax her out."

"Poor thing," Eric murmured, setting his kit down. "Let me try…" Quietly he crossed the room to the closet, opening the door. A pair of startling green eyes peered out at him, and for a moment a young Calleigh flashed through his mind. A young Calleigh, searching for refuge from the drunken fighting of her parents. His heart clenched for her, but he forced that away for the moment. He couldn't be reminded of Calleigh every time somebody had green eyes.

Or blonde hair, or a small frame, or that adorable Southern accent that he loved. This business of seeing Calleigh everywhere he went had to stop.

Eric kneeled down, giving the girl a hopefully inviting smile. "Hi there," he said, hoping she would talk to him. "My name is Eric. What's yours?"

For a moment there was only silence, and Eric was about to give up when he heard her tiny, frightened voice. "He's not coming back, is he?" she whispered shakily.

Eric smiled. "No, he's not coming back. I promise."

The girl nodded slowly and bit her lip hesitantly, causing Calleigh again to flash through Eric's mind. With her green eyes and her uncanny mannerisms, the girl could've easily passed for Calleigh's daughter. She shuffled slightly, pulling Eric's mind back again, and he extended a hand to her. "Why don't you come with me, okay? We can go outside and talk. Is that okay?"

Her green eyes stared back at him for the longest time before she extended her own tiny hands. "Okay," she said quietly, allowing Eric to pull her into his arms. His heart broke for her; she barely looked four years old.

Eric held her tightly to him, trying to shield her from the scene in the bedroom. Over the top of her blonde curls Eric's eyes met with Calleigh's unreadable ones. She glanced away for only a moment before her gaze was drawn right back to him. For a moment they stayed like that; Eric holding the little girl, watching Calleigh stare right back at him, her teeth gently nibbling at her bottom lip.

He couldn't say what had passed between them in that moment. Maybe it was a silent understanding, or maybe it was just nothing but confusion; clarity or ambiguity. Whatever it was, the significance of it kept his gaze locked with Calleigh's in a connection that he was not only unwilling, but unable to break.

It was a different moment than what they'd shared in the Hummer. There'd been a shard of lightness in that moment. This moment was anything but light. Eric wouldn't say it felt ominous, as staring into Calleigh's eyes could hardly be considered bad. But there was definitely something brewing.

The little girl squirmed lightly in Eric's arms, turning her head toward his, as though trying to hide that she would speak to him and only him. "Lena," she whispered into Eric's ear, and Eric finally broke eye contact with Calleigh. "My name is Lena."

"That's a pretty name," Eric replied with a smile, and Lena beamed. "Now lets get you out into the sunshine," he added, desperate to get her out of that room.

Once Eric was gone, Calleigh tried to relax. She sighed deeply, though it wasn't a sigh of relief, as she'd hoped for. Trying to clear her mind, she began to walk the room, taking a mental inventory of everything that seemed out of place, as well as everything that seemed too neat, especially for a house with a child living in it.

The little girl. Just thinking about her sent mixed thoughts floating through Calleigh's head. If her first assumptions were correct, it was the girl's father who'd killed her mother. Her mother was dead, and her father would be spending his life in prison, if not sentenced to die himself. And the little girl, an orphan.

And yet, Calleigh still couldn't help thinking that the little girl was better off. She would be the first to agree that watching her father kill her mother wasn't the best way to do it, but in Calleigh's mind, she'd just been saved from so many more years of emotional scarring.

If there was anybody who could write the book on emotional scarring done by parents, it was Calleigh. She would never forget the many nights when her father would come home reeking of the bar and proceed to turn their home into a warzone. She could remember clearly the nights she'd sat huddled on the stairs with Evan, the oldest of her younger brothers, listening to the fighting below, just praying that for once, their father would leave. That he would just walk out, just like that. Sure, it left them with their mother, which was hardly a better option, but it would've been better than living with the both of them.

But it hadn't been him that had left.

It was a Friday night in August. Calleigh had been twelve, Evan ten. The night had begun with the usual routine; the arguing had awoken them both, and neither could sleep. They'd both expected the same outcome that they'd been watching for all their lives. But that night, it changed.

Amelie Duquesne had finally had enough. Evan and Calleigh listened in shock as she stomped through the house, Duke yelling at her the whole way, and finally, out the door. With frightened eyes they'd looked at each other as they heard her car leave. And it wasn't even a minute later that their father was standing at the bottom of the steps, staring angrily up at them.

The only escape had been back into their bedrooms, and even then, it was only a matter of time before Calleigh met the full wrath of a drunken Kenwall Duquesne. It became _her_ fault that the entire family was falling apart. It became _her_ fault that Evan had a large window in his room, a window from which he escaped before their father could get to him. It became _her_ fault that her mother had left without another word to anyone. The tears that left her eyes that night were because of her, she was told. Calleigh had no right to cry.

In her childhood, there'd been hundreds of nights just like that one, but it was that muggy, August night that stuck out most prominently in her memory. The rest of them seemed to run together in her mind, but any time Calleigh thought about her childhood, it was this particular night that surfaced first. It wasn't like that night was anything new; it was sad to admit, but Calleigh was used to the belt; she was used to his drunken rage. True, he only ever touched her when he was drunk, though Calleigh was hard-pressed to remember times that he wasn't drunk. But that night, it wasn't what Calleigh was used to. It wasn't what she could emotionlessly block away, like the other nights.

It had been the one night that her father had truly hurt her. It was the scars, both physical and emotional, from that one night that stood out most significantly against her skin, against her heart.

Again, the absolutely frightened look on that little girl's face touched the forefront of Calleigh's mind, and she gave an involuntary shudder. It was the same look that had been in Evan's eyes that night so long ago, and also, Calleigh imagined, in her own eyes.

_It's over._ Forcefully Calleigh pushed the memory from her mind, wishing she could push it away forever. At the moment though, she'd be happy with pushing it away for only now, so she could finally get to work. With a sigh, she stood in place, surveying the room for casings, bullets, anything. Oh, what she wouldn't give for about a hundred bullets to process right now. _That_ would certainly take her mind off of everything.

There weren't nearly a hundred, but there were some nonetheless, and that would work for the time being. Kneeling, Calleigh bagged and tagged the casings she found, looking around the room to make sure she hadn't missed any. Her actions were in tune with the scene, but her mind was still elsewhere. In pushing one memory away, another had taken its place. Though she went through the motions she was so accustomed to, her mind had since left the room, making itself a third companion to Eric and the little girl, outside. The way he'd coaxed her out of hiding with that disarming smile of his; the way she seemed to cling to him like her lifeline…it was adorable.

With a sigh, Calleigh stared down into her kit, not even noticing Jake reenter the room. She jumped, startled as he lay a hand on her shoulder. "Don't sneak up on me like that," she said, not looking up at him.

Jake grinned apologetically. "Sorry." He kneeled next to her. "In my defense, I did call your name three times," he pointed out. Despite his grin, Jake was concerned. This became yet another moment that he would have to file away for later examination. Maybe eventually he would figure out what was on Calleigh's mind.

Calleigh glanced at him. "Sorry," she apologized quietly. "I was…"

But whatever it was she was doing, Jake never found out. Calleigh had taken her mind off of the crime scene for just long enough for the memories to assault her again.

They hit her like a wall of water, submerging her, refusing to let her surface. She could feel the fear that coursed through her, the way her heart had pounded as her twelve-year-old self had raced up the stairs. She could hear the desperation in her voice as she tried to reason with her father, though knowing it was useless. She could feel it all, as though it were happening all over again. The troubling realization that Evan had gotten away, leaving her and only her to take the punishment for both. The physical pain that flowed through her body every time the belt slapped against her; the way she prayed and prayed after each strike for a reprieve, for somebody to hear, for anything. The feel of the salty tears as they burned her eyes, her cheeks. The emotional onslaught as over and over she heard just how worthless she was; what a disgrace to the family she was; how she would never amount to anything…

It was as though the walls had started closing in on her. Her lungs burned, she couldn't breathe. The room was starting to spin around her; Calleigh needed to get out of there. _Now_.

Abruptly she stood, shaking her head. "You know what, Jake?" she murmured, almost afraid to raise her voice any more than that. "Can you…can you give me a minute?"

Jake blinked. "Uh, sure. Everything okay?"

Calleigh nodded quickly, closing her kit. "Yeah…I just need some air, I think…" She stood, tugging off her gloves as briskly she began moving toward the door, the same one Eric and Lena had left through before. Jake called after her, though his words went unheard by her.

_What had just happened? _

It was the question that Calleigh attempted to answer as she stepped into the backyard, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart and mind. She hadn't had a flashback like that in _years_. She couldn't believe she'd let one get the best of her now. She was a grown woman; had been one for some time. She was supposed to be over that.

But there was just something about this case, that little girl; something that had brought it all back to her. Calleigh supposed it didn't help that she was under a huge amount of stress these days as it was.

Her eyes shifted a little to the left, her gaze falling upon Eric and Lena. They were sitting at an old picnic table, Lena content to draw on a piece of scrap paper as Eric watched her. His back was to Calleigh, and before she knew it, she was moving toward them.

Her approach, though quiet, didn't go unnoticed by him. Even if he hadn't heard the soft crunch of dry grass behind him, Eric still would've felt her. He felt her watching him; felt her drawing near to him. He felt as well as heard her hesitate, her footfalls stalling just a few feet away.

Even with his back still to him, Eric could tell something wasn't right. In the weeks that had passed, Calleigh had tried anything to talk to him, and he found it irritating, because she wouldn't really _talk._ All he wanted was her undivided honesty; he didn't want the veil she'd taken to hiding behind. She wouldn't let her honest feelings show through with him, and that was what bothered him.

But now, he could just feel the uncertainty, the discomfort she felt, and he couldn't help but indulge her. With a sigh, he reached out, gently ruffling Lena's hair. "I'll be right back," he whispered, receiving only a nod in response. Nodding himself, he stood, stretching lightly before crossing the space between them. "Finished with the inside already?" he asked, referring to the case.

Slowly, Calleigh shook her head. "I just needed a break," she admitted quietly. She gave a chuckle, hoping to lighten the situation. "I guess I let my mind run wild, and the case got to me a little."

Eric watched her carefully, his eyes reading every tiny movement she made. Something about her now looked vulnerable, and Eric hated that. Her arms were crossed protectively about her chest, and while she held his gaze, her eyes seemed…lost.

Gently he reached out, brushing his fingertips ever softly over her elbow. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

Calleigh gave a sigh, her eyes flitting to the little girl at the picnic table. "Yeah. This is just…really bringing back old memories for some reason."

"Bad ones?" Eric asked, though already both knowing and dreading the answer.

She hesitated for a second. "Yeah," she repeated, sighing deeply. "Seeing her scared like that, and then seeing what she must've had to watch, and wondering what else she's gone through; it just reopened old wounds, I guess." She shrugged, forcing a smile. "It was a long time ago, though."

Eric didn't have a clue just how deeply those old wounds cut; this was the most Calleigh had ever revealed to him on the subject. He did, however, have an inkling as to what she meant, having worked similar cases alongside her before, and it was all he could do to keep his anger inside. "It may have been a long time ago, but that doesn't mean you deserved it," Eric said softly, again grazing his fingers over her arm.

Calleigh nodded. "I know that, now," she replied grimly. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime," Eric murmured. Despite trying, he too found he wasn't immune to the effects of being near her. His armor was cracking; the weeks he'd spent being cold toward her had taken their toll, hurting him just as much, if not more than knowing he'd lost her to Jake. He hated being away from her; he hated pretending he wanted nothing to do with her. The truth remained; he still wanted _everything_ to do with her.

Tilting his head, he regarded her carefully once more. "You sure you're gonna be okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

It was a moment before she answered, but when she did, it was resolute. "Yeah. I just needed to get out of that house for a minute. I'll be fine." Reluctantly she looked away, first down at her watch to check the time, and then, even more reluctantly, back toward the house. "I should probably get back in there and finish up."

"If you want to wait a few more minutes, you can," Eric suggested. "I'm just waiting for somebody from children's services to get here for Lena. You can wait for me, if you want."

Oh, but it was tempting. "Thanks, Eric," Calleigh said sincerely. "But I probably just need to go back and get to work instead of sitting out here."

Eric nodded, understanding. "Okay. But if you need anything else…"

Calleigh smiled. "I know." Instinctively she reached out, lightly touching his hand. "Thanks for being here, Eric." _I know I don't deserve it. _

With one last smile, she turned and began heading back toward the house, feeling immensely better than she had before. Eric watched her go, a wistful look in his eyes. Had they just had a real conversation? A real moment? The realization brought a smile to his lips; a full, genuine smile.

Her final words of gratitude echoed through his mind, and Eric nodded once more toward her retreating form. "Always."


	9. Distance

_**Chapter Nine**_  
**_Distance_  
- **

Jake was perplexed.

For the first time since he'd opened that manila envelope which still resided in the doorside pocket of his car, he was actually able to forget about it, for the moment at least. For the first time in days, the only thing present at the forefront of his mind was Calleigh. At first, he'd shaken off the obvious differences in the Calleigh of his past and the Calleigh of his present, but the way she'd acted since arriving at this crime scene with Delko had been atypical of any side of Calleigh.

He'd never known Calleigh to pass up ballistics evidence. She might not be too good with jigsaw puzzles, but she could analyze the anatomy of any bullet and know the gun it came from, who the gun belonged to, and whether it was fired accidentally or on purpose. The Calleigh he knew lived to find those answers.

But today, Calleigh hadn't seemed to be in any hurry to get back to the lab. By all means, she could have. After all, he was there, and once children's services came to pick up the little girl, Delko would be back. And he could call for help, if needed. Calleigh was free to get the bullets back to her lab.

The bullets, however, seemed to be the last thing on her mind.

And that little quip about needing some air? Jake knew that was contrived. By no means did he have a weak stomach, but he knew Calleigh's was stronger. There was a reason she'd gone into forensic science and he'd stuck with undercover investigation, and it wasn't just because Jake liked unpredictability.

Undercover agents generally didn't stick around to follow blood trails and wound patterns. They went in, got out, and were never seen there again. It was the CSIs who were fascinated with that kind of thing.

If either of them could possibly need air, it would've been Jake before it was Calleigh.

Something was up. That much would've been obvious to a three year old. Calleigh wasn't herself lately; she was distracted, which in the past Jake wouldn't have thought twice about, but this time, she wasn't distracted because of him.

There was something else on her mind, and Jake could tell it wasn't a little something.

Despite whatever Calleigh might think, Jake knew that he knew her better than she thought he did. She didn't need air; for some reason, she was just having trouble concentrating. Why…now that was what Jake didn't know. It bothered him that she had run away from him. Jake knew there was a possibility that he could be wrong; but that didn't make it any easier for him to shrug it off.

If anything, it piqued his curiosity, that was for sure. He'd watched her carefully as she removed her gloves and quickly made her way out the door and into the backyard, without a look back. That, combined with her rigid posture and tight-lipped mouth, made it seem almost as though she were on a mission.

Putting two and two together, Jake deduced what might not have been clear had he not spent years reading people - the object of Calleigh's distraction was currently in the backyard.

Slowly, he'd crept to the sliding glass door, hiding himself behind the billowy beige curtains. They were quite tacky, yes, but they allowed him to watch without worrying about being discovered.

_Jake watched as Calleigh made her way across the lawn, noting the subtle hesitation present in her footsteps. She didn't quite seem to know what to do with her hands, as one moment she had her arms crossed about her chest, the next they were sliding into her pockets. A moment later, they were back at her side, her hands clenching, a nervous habit of hers. _

_A few feet later, she came to a stop, and Jake followed her gaze to the picnic table where Delko and the little girl resided. Was the little girl the issue plaguing Calleigh's mind? _

_But why? Calleigh had only seen the little girl once; she knew nothing about her. Calleigh knew less about the girl's past than Jake did about Calleigh's. It just didn't make sense to Jake that she'd be bothered by something like this. Calleigh never had a problem putting professional before personal. _

_A sudden movement caught his eye, and Jake watched as Delko stood and slowly moved in front of Calleigh. Again, her arms were crossed, and her eyes downcast. Words were exchanged, and Jake found himself wishing he could hear them as well as he could see them. _

_But what Jake wished more than anything was that Calleigh would talk to him. Why did she have to go to Delko? _

_Why did Delko have to look at her so intently? _

_Why did he have to reach out to her? Why did he have to touch her arm? _

_Why did he have to smile at her like that? _

_It was like taking a punch to the stomach, watching that scene. _

_Jake had been in UC long enough to train his eyes. He was trained to look for the subtleties; for the little things that no one else would notice, yet could make or break a case. It was one of the parts of working undercover that he loved - the high that came with hiding away and listening not only to a secret conversation, but reading the body language, knowing what was going to happen before his subjects even knew. _

_Usually, it was a thrill to him. Jake loved mystery; he loved the race to piece the pieces together before anyone else. _

_But there was a first time for everything. And this time, Jake wished he hadn't been privy to the scene playing out before him. He couldn't hear them, but he could see them. _

_He didn't think anything was going on between them. He was confident; he was secure. He knew at the end of the day, he'd be going home with Calleigh. The exchange, in Jake's eyes, had been purely out of friendship.  
_

_But knowing that still didn't stop an unsettled feeling from setting over him as he got back to work.  
_

It was an unpleasant feeling that nagged at him until the very end of the day. As he left the scene to come back to the precinct, Jake had flinched at the idea of Calleigh staying there with Delko, and then riding back to CSI alone in the Hummer with him. As he sat at his desk doing paperwork, Jake couldn't help but see them in his mind. As he took his break, he kept seeing Delko reach out to Calleigh, touching her arm.

It wasn't so much the fact that Calleigh had gone to Delko; it was more the fact that she couldn't come to Jake. That was what really bothered him.

A thousand different scenarios were dying to push to the front of his mind, but that was another thing that his years in UC had taught him - never jump to conclusions. It was a mistake that he'd seen countless younger agents make; it was a mistake that could signal the end of an assignment.

Or even the end of one's life.

So Jake refused even to entertain the thought of those scenarios. He knew none of them would be favorable - he'd always had a knack for imagining the worst case scenario. And besides, there was work to be done. He couldn't afford to spend the rest of the day occupied with thoughts that may or may not mean anything.

He already had enough burning at his mind as it was.

It was with much relief that he closed the file over which he'd been poring. The sun had long since set, leaving Jake slightly surprised at the time. For all the time he'd wasted at the desk today, he'd gotten next to nothing done.

He wasn't the only one who'd worked late tonight, though. As soon as he'd stepped out into the night air and pulled out his phone, a car stopped in front of the sidewalk, Calleigh at the wheel. "Perfect timing," Jake murmured, making his way toward the car. It was without a word from either of them that he opened the door and slipped inside.

"Sorry," Calleigh mumbled as Jake fastened his seat belt. "I got caught up at the lab…"

"Don't worry about it," Jake replied, waving a hand. "I just now finished up too. Although, in the future, maybe it's not the best idea to ride into work together," he added with a chuckle, though it failed to put a smile on Calleigh's lips.

"Yeah, maybe," she said flatly, turning out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

"Is everything okay?" Jake asked, true concern in his voice.

Calleigh sighed. "Yeah," she replied simply. It wasn't _exactly_ a lie. Calleigh knew she would be fine as soon as she got home and into a warm bath, before calling it a night and getting some sleep. She was slightly apprehensive though; after the day she'd had, after having that little girl on her mind all day, Calleigh was mildly afraid of the dreams that might visit her tonight.

Jake pursed his lips, wondering if she knew just how unconvincing she was. "You sure?" he tried again, shifting slightly in his seat.

"I'm fine, Jake," Calleigh insisted sharply. She sighed, biting her lip. "I'm sorry," she murmured, coming to rest at a red light. For the first time, she turned her head, her softened eyes taking in Jake's blank expression. "It's just been a long day."

"A bad day?"

Calleigh sighed. "Kind of," she relented. "I'm just tired…irritable…" she added with a self-deprecating chuckle. The light turned green, and Calleigh focused her attention back on the road, glad to turn away from the penetrating look that had taken over Jake's brown eyes. It was the last thing she needed right now, for him to see the very depths of her soul like she knew he could.

Jake wasn't fooled. Gently, he reached over, brushing his fingertips over her upper arm. "What happened?" he asked, truly concerned.

Calleigh was quick to answer. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Cal…"

"Please, just leave it alone, Jake. I don't want to talk about it."

Jake narrowed his eyes. "Wanna go talk to Delko about it?" he asked bitterly, unable to hold his tongue. It slipped out before he could stop it. He was only trying to be there for her, to play the part of the supportive boyfriend, but it was hard to do with Calleigh closing herself off. Forget hard; it was damn near impossible.

He'd had a long day as well, and part of his temper he blamed on that. In the past, they'd been able to trade horror stories from work, and go to bed knowing that the next day would have to be better, as well as knowing that they had each other. Jake would be lying if he ever said he didn't miss those days. Back then, he'd never felt as though Calleigh were hiding from him.

So what had changed? Was it Calleigh? Or was it Jake? Was he simply not around enough back then to notice every one of Calleigh's subtleties? Jake flinched at the idea; either way, it wasn't good. Either Calleigh had been open with him back then because she knew he wouldn't be around for long, or he just hadn't been around enough to read her. Oh, the things he would change if only he could go back…

Calleigh glanced to him only briefly, though there was no mistaking the fire in her eyes. "Excuse me?"

Jake shook his head. "Never mind," he muttered. "I shouldn't have -"

"No," Calleigh interrupted. She knew she hadn't misheard him, and, though she would cover it with anger instead of letting it show, she was rather stung. By what though, even Calleigh wasn't sure. Was it the idea that maybe he didn't quite trust her? Or was it the idea that he could be right?

With a shake of her head, Calleigh cleared her mind of that tinge of pain. Anger was much easier to deal with than hurt. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked quietly.

"I told you, it was nothing, okay?" Jake replied.

"No, it's not okay. You said something, and I want to know what you're talking about," Calleigh persisted.

Despite himself, Jake could feel his own irritation surge up within him. "Oh, okay. Now you want to talk," he commented bitterly.

Calleigh tightened her grip on the steering wheel, knowing exactly what he was getting at. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" Jake challenged. "Why do you get to sidestep anything that you don't like, but the minute I want to drop something, it becomes fair game?" He waited, though Calleigh didn't offer up an answer. "Now that's what seems unfair."

"That's different, Jake." Calleigh bit at the inside of her cheek, breathing deeply as she tried to control her growing anger. "I said I didn't want to talk about my bad day. And then you go accusing me -"

"Accusing you? Of what?" Jake scoffed. "I was only making an observation."

"Observation implies that it's true."

"Well, there was nothing fake about what I saw," Jake argued. He knew he was pressing Calleigh's buttons; he knew she was angry, upset. But by now, he was too. "What am I supposed to think, Cal? You sure won't talk to me."

Calleigh glared. "We talk. All the time." With unnecessary force, she flipped on the blinker, turning off of the highway.

"Yeah, we do." Again he flinched; she'd taken that curve a little too fast for his liking. But he dared not say a word; it was one more argument he didn't need. "Until it's something that rubs you the wrong way. And then you get all closed-off and distant -"

"Distant?" Calleigh interrupted, outraged. "If either of us has been distant lately, it's you!"

"Me? What the hell are you talking about?"

Calleigh scoffed. "Oh, come on, Jake. Where have you been these past few weeks, huh? Sometimes it's like you're only half here!"

"So maybe I've had a few things on my mind," Jake countered, crossing his arms.

"And so have I!" Calleigh growled. "And maybe I don't feel like talking about them either."

Jake exhaled deeply. "At all, or just not to me?" Calleigh glanced at him, a confused look in her eyes. Jake gave a bitter laugh. "Come on, Cal. You act like I'm blind."

"What are you talking about?" Calleigh asked, her heart pounding. She had an idea of what was bothering Jake, once he'd mentioned Eric's name.

Jake felt something within him burst. But instead of the anger he expected, as he rewatched that particular scene in his mind, he felt hurt welling up within him. "Today, at the homicide. You were acting weird, I asked what was wrong, and you ignored me and ran off to Delko."

The atmosphere in the car changed almost immediately. A cold weight settled in Jake's stomach - he couldn't help but feel as though he'd hit the nail on the head. He opened his mouth to apologize, an honest apology - he'd be the first to admit he'd gone too far. But before he could speak, Calleigh beat him to it.

"Jake, you know it's not like that," she said quietly, wishing she could look into Jake's eyes as she spoke. Alas, she was still on the road, and pulling over wasn't an option - the way she saw it, that could make things worse.

"Do I?" Jake asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't insecure, but he wasn't okay with the fact that his girlfriend couldn't talk to him. It hurt to think that she had to go to Delko, or anybody else for that matter, in order to get something off her chest. Was she that afraid to talk to him? "Because from what I saw, you two looked pretty cozy out in the backyard earlier."

"Oh come on, Jake. He's my best friend."

"And what am I, just some random guy you picked up on the side of the road?"

"Jake! Eric and I have been friends for years; we work together everyday in the lab. If we didn't have a good relationship, it would jeopardize our cases," Calleigh reasoned angrily.

Jake scoffed. "That's just like you, Cal, to say work makes it okay."

Calleigh stiffened, using every last bit of her control to keep her eyes on the road instead of jerking her head angrily toward Jake. Her control put towards that, there was nothing left to keep the anger from her voice when she spoke. "Don't you dare try to lecture me about hiding behind work, Jake!" She paused, breathing in deeply. "Every night you were home late - missing dinner, coming in after midnight - it was because of work. Every time you lied to me, it was because of work. Every time you walked away from me without telling me what you were doing or when I would see you again, _if_ I would see you again; it was because of work." She knew she was getting dangerously angry with him, but at the moment, Calleigh didn't care. This was something she'd needed to get off her chest for years; for years she'd kept it inside, away from prying eyes. "What could possibly make that okay?"

"It's different because I wasn't using work to hide from you!" Jake exclaimed. "It's different because no matter what, you were the only one I wanted to be with!" He paused, but a reply, whether an affirmation or a denial, never came. "Cal, I'm not accusing you of anything," he said, his voice softening. "It just…it hurts that you can't talk to me."

Calleigh flinched. The pain was evident in Jake's voice, and suddenly, Calleigh felt terrible. "Jake…" she murmured. "Look, I'm sorry." Beside her, Jake gave a noncommittal grunt. "Today was just…a bad day."

"I think we've established that already," Jake replied coolly.

"Jake…" Calleigh said, "today was bad…it just brought up a lot of old memories." She hesitated, nibbling thoughtfully at her lip. "And I didn't run to Eric," she added, feeling her anger surge up again. Part of her was asking why she should even bother, when it seemed Jake was already set in what he believed. But something in Calleigh needed to make this clear to Jake. "He came to me."

Jake was silent for a moment. "You know, I came to you too," he said quietly. "And you ran away."

"You don't understand, Jake."

"Because you won't give me a chance to try!" Jake threw his hands up, his emotions a combination of frustration, anger, hurt, confusion… he couldn't even give a name to everything he was feeling. He felt exposed, raw.

Calleigh gave a sigh, nibbling anxiously at her bottom lip. It was as though she were being pulled in all directions. Tell Jake the entire truth, or let it go. Tell Jake part of the truth and know the rest would come up later, or just let it go. Admit his concerns were valid, or tell him his concerns were unfounded. In this charged atmosphere, anything could worsen the situation, but it was killing Calleigh not to explain it, at least somewhat. She needed Jake to know; she needed Jake to understand. "It's just that...Eric knows," she murmured after the silence became unbearable. "He and I have worked so close together for years, and he just knows things. He's perceptive. He sort of already knew why the case bothered me today."

Her explanation really didn't make Jake feel any better. "I could've known too. But, oh wait, I guess you would've had to tell me the whole story. And God forbid you do that." With an exasperated groan, he reached up, raking his fingers through his hair.

"I couldn't even say it to myself! And even if I could've, there wasn't exactly time to sit you down and give you my entire life story!" Calleigh argued, the slightest tremble in her voice, though it was masked by her anger.

"Nor apparently in all the years I've known you," Jake retorted, feeling more and more stung with every passing minute.

"You were always gone!" Calleigh exclaimed, her voice strained. Unconsciously she pressed her foot harder on the gas. "I'm sorry if I spent most of my time wondering whether you were going to be around for five more minutes or five more days instead of giving you my autobiography! I'm sorry that instead of spending my time talking to you, I had to spend my time worrying about you!"

For a moment, there was silence. Jake allowed her words to sink into him, and he closed his eyes, lifting one hand to massage his forehead. Her anger was justified, perhaps more so than his. It was a big part of her life that she'd kept from him, and in looking back, Jake couldn't deny that he hadn't been guilty of the same. "Look, Calleigh," he began quietly, his eyes straying to the speedometer, "slow down, okay? You're driving too fast."

Calleigh glanced over at him, her eyes flashing. "Don't change the subject, Jake. You're the one who brought it up," she said, though she did oblige his request, though only slightly as she approached the next intersection.

Jake scoffed. So much for dropping the subject. "Yeah, that was obviously a mistake," he grumbled.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Calleigh asked angrily.

"It means," Jake began with a sigh, "that I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I brought it up. I just...I'm sorry."

But whether Calleigh accepted his apology or offered one herself, Jake never discovered. While the rest of the ride had passed by agonizingly slowly, the next few moments passed in a blur of energy and light.

Jake saw it first. There was a flash of blinding headlights from the left, growing closer with every passing millisecond, despite the fact that Calleigh had the right of way; they'd had the green light; they were already in the intersection. Jake felt his heart skip several beats. He opened his mouth, but no sound would come out.

And Calleigh didn't even seem to notice.

But Jake…he'd had years of quick reflexes to keep him thinking on his feet. He let his instincts take over, not even thinking as he reached out, grabbing the wheel and yanking it sharply, ignoring Calleigh's yelp of surprise. He knew he wouldn't be able to dodge completely out of the way; his only concern at this point was making sure Calleigh wasn't hurt.

There was the deafening blare of a horn, followed by the telltale sound of screeching tires. It was only then that Calleigh completely clued into what was happening.

But by then, it was too late. Calleigh didn't even have time to brace herself before the impact.


	10. Lucky Girl

_**Chapter Ten**_  
**_Lucky Girl_  
- **

Eric had always thought Paula knew more than she ever let on.

After all, she did work right out front, at reception. Her eyes were privy to all who walked into the crime lab; it was rare that anybody could waltz right in without speaking to her first. She'd become adept at reading people; given only a few moments, Paula could tell if someone was a family member of someone in the lab, an innocent simply wishing to check on the progress of a case, or a suspect who she would probably be calling security on in seconds flat.

But it wasn't only the strangers that Paula had taken to watching. It wasn't only the suspects; it wasn't only those that she'd probably never see again. Locked away behind her reception desk, fielding calls and visitors for those inside the lab, she couldn't help but immerse herself in their personal lives, when the opportunity arose.

If there was anybody who knew more about the inner workings and relationships in the lab than Valera and Cooper, it was Paula.

She knew the lengthy history between Calleigh and her father. She knew every time that Duke did something to upset his daughter by the way he walked into the lab with a vase of tulips, always yellow, and a penitent look in his eyes. She saw the frustration Calleigh felt every time Paula had to break the news of her visitor.

She had known about Horatio and Marisol, perhaps even before Eric himself knew. Paula had to admit, Horatio and Marisol had made a sweet couple, but throw Eric, Marisol's brother and Horatio's subordinate, into the mix, and the relationship became one that Paula couldn't begin to understand.

She knew the depth of Eric's financial woes; after all, she was the one who'd been fielding the calls from hospitals, from lawyers, from the woman who'd been collecting pieces of his paycheck, and so on. Though he took it in stride, Eric was still frustrated, as anyone would be.

She had seen the almost schoolboy-like crush that Ryan had harbored for Calleigh in the beginning. When he'd first transferred to CSI, Ryan had been eager to please her, perhaps more than he was toward anyone else. He'd looked up to her as a mentor, though her blonde locks and playful eyes had teased him relentlessly. But like with all simple crushes, that one too faded, and Paula watched as Ryan stepped out from under Calleigh's shadow, becoming his own CSI. That crush had faded into nothing, but there was another relationship that had blossomed right before her eyes, one which seemed to resist fading.

Paula knew, simply by watching, just what Calleigh meant to Eric. No words were ever necessary to describe the electricity that passed from him to her from gentle touches, subtle gazes. It was no crush what Eric felt for Calleigh, and their relationship, one of a friendship struggling to stay friendship while at the same time wanting to become more, had been one that had fascinated Paula for years.

And tonight, Eric had never been more grateful that Paula possessed that fascination, that knowledge of their deep relationship.

The call had come through about a quarter past ten. Eric had been on his way home when his cell rang, CSI flashing on the display. Any other night he might've ignored it - after all, he was officially off duty. But something made him answer this particular call, not even letting it get to the second ring.

And then his blood had run cold. A wreck, about ten miles north of his current location. One car that'd run a red light, smashing into another car, identified to be Calleigh's. As soon as Paula had heard the news, her first phone call had been to Eric.

He'd turned around immediately and raced to the scene, breaking all the speed limits but not caring about anything other than getting to Calleigh. Paula had told him it wasn't serious; that nobody had been hurt, but Eric knew his heart would not stop pounding until he saw her for himself.

When Eric finally saw her, standing and appearing unhurt, the sense of relief that washed over him had been overwhelming. He was relieved, but in no way did that slow his stride as he jumped out of his car, thoughtfully pulling a blanket from the trunk before he made it over to her, calling her name softly.

She turned to him, her eyes wide. "Eric…"

"Quite an evening, huh?" he murmured, gently wrapping the blanket around Calleigh's shoulders. Despite the muggy night air, she welcomed the warmth of the soft fabric over her shoulders. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Calleigh shook her head quickly. "No, I'm fine."

Eric bit his lip, looking over her body. It wasn't that he didn't believe her, but how many times could he really believe Calleigh when she said she was fine? Not this time, at least, not without some serious convincing and acting on Calleigh's part. Her eyes were still widened, the remnants of the fear that had coursed through her body. Eric could see she was shaking, though clearly trying to keep it unnoticeable. It was all Eric could do to remain professional, to keep from pulling her into his arms.

The professionalism he could hold onto, if he tried. But the anger, the coldness he'd projected toward her in recent weeks had fallen away, just like the fake wall that it was. He couldn't pretend to hate her now if he tried.

If Calleigh had died tonight, Eric would've never been able to live with himself, after the way he'd been acting toward her recently.

Pulling his eyes from her for the moment, Eric allowed himself to survey the scene. It made his stomach flip, seeing the twisted wreck of metal that had once Calleigh's car; that was something he couldn't bear to look at. Instead he turned his gaze several feet away, where the driver of the other car, after being checked out, was being taken into custody. Eric could tell by the way the man walked that he was clearly drunk. Just the thought made Eric's blood boil; the woman for whom he cared so deeply had nearly been taken away from him by somebody who clearly hadn't thought of the consequences, or perhaps he just hadn't cared.

His eyes shifted back to her, and to Calleigh's dismay, he didn't miss her slight trembling. "Are you sure you're okay?" he persisted, his hands on her arms, concerned. He reached up, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, a move that, while she tensed slightly, she seemed grateful for. "Maybe you should run by the ER…"

Calleigh gave an embarrassed smile. "Eric…I'm fine."

"Look at your car, Cal," Eric said quietly, not missing Calleigh's flinch.

"Really Eric, it's just a few scratches…" she mumbled, glancing to the right. "I'm fine."

Eric gave her a small smile, seeking out her eyes. "I don't doubt that," he said, though only to placate her. "But I'd feel better if you went to the ER." He'd long since found that if he made it about his needing something instead of her needing something, Calleigh was much more ready to oblige. "If you don't go, I'm going to worry about you all night. Whether you might have a concussion, whether you're in a lot more pain than you're feeling right now…" He reached out, gently taking one of her cold hands. "Standing here and looking at your car…I just need to know that you're okay."

Calleigh closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath. "Fine," she murmured, almost inaudibly. She was too tired to argue anymore tonight.

Eric let out a sigh of relief. "Good," he said quietly, chuckling despite himself as Calleigh rolled her eyes. Gently he reached out, draping an arm around her shoulders. "Lets get you to my car, okay?" Calleigh simply nodded and allowed Eric to lead her.

It was only moments later, though it felt like much longer to Calleigh, that Eric was opening his passenger door for her. He couldn't help but smile as Calleigh shook off his touch; such a typical Calleigh action. He waited as she slipped into the car, resting her head against the back of the seat. She looked so tiny, so fragile, but Eric would never dare say that aloud. Instead, he smiled softly, reaching in and gently brushing a knuckle over her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Calleigh replied on a sigh. She gave Eric a grateful smile. "Thanks, Eric."

"You're welcome," Eric murmured, nodding slightly. "I'll be right back, okay?" She nodded, and with another smile, Eric closed the door and began reluctantly heading back toward the scene, toward where he'd briefly noticed Jake arguing with another officer just a few moments earlier.

He'd been engrossed in the argument - if there was anybody more stubborn than Calleigh, it was Jake - but his eyes had flickered to Eric as he'd made his way toward Calleigh.

Eric hadn't missed the look Jake had given him as he'd led Calleigh to his car. It had been cold, calculating. It gave Eric a strange feeling, though he couldn't describe it as more than that. Even so, he approached the other man, thinking only of Calleigh as he did so.

Eric just wanted to get to the chase; to tell Jake where he was taking Calleigh and why, and to be done with it. But his upbringing had taught him to at least seem polite, and he couldn't make himself ignore that now. "Hey, man, you alright?" he asked.

It was all Jake could do not to glare. Standing in front of him was the very person that he and Calleigh had been arguing over in the car. He tried to keep himself in check, knowing it would be far too easy to pin the blame for the wreck on Eric, despite the fact that physically he'd had nothing to do with it. "I'm fine," he muttered.

Eric's eyes dropped to Jake's arms. "You sure? Those look like some pretty nasty scrapes."

Jake rubbed his arms with his hands, grimacing a little at the slight burn. "I'm fine," he repeated. "It's just a bit of airbag burn. Believe me, I've had worse."

Eric nodded slowly, really not sure what to say to that. Awkwardly he crossed his arms, letting out a breath. "So what exactly happened here?"

"Jerk hit us, that's what happened," Jake scowled.

"I can see that," Eric sighed, trying to stay patient. "I meant, what really happened?"

Jake narrowed his eyes, unsure of what Eric was after. But he couldn't shake the suspicion that he was trying to blame the wreck on him. "Look, Delko," he began slowly, "I don't know what you're looking for, but you're not going to find it. We were on our way home, that guy ran a red light, and here we are."

"Relax, Jake," Eric said, holding up a hand. "I wasn't suggesting anything. I was just trying to figure out what happened."

A thousand questions flitted their way through Jake's mind. Why did it matter so much to Eric? Wrecks happened all the time; why did the mechanism of it concern Eric so much? And why did he show up here so quickly? Had he just been driving by? Or had somebody called him?

Did Calleigh call him? The very idea chilled him, and Jake shook his head slightly, trying to clear it. What he couldn't shake, though, was why on earth Eric would even be here now anyway. His presence seemed more than a little strange to Jake. Why was it that, recently, Eric seemed to pop up whenever something was going on with Calleigh? "What are you even doing here?" Jake asked, crossing his arms.

"Does it really matter why I'm here?" Eric said, slightly defensively, progressively growing more and more tired of playing nice. It was late, he was exhausted, frustrated. To beat it all, he could feel a dull throbbing beginning just behind his eyes. "I think what matters is that none of this was as serious as it could've been, and that nobody was hurt." Eric's eyes once more strayed to the slight redness on Jake's arms. "Seriously, at least. I still think that maybe you should get that looked at, though. Do you want a ride?"

"What?" Jake asked, slightly confused. "A ride where?"

Eric braced himself slightly, not expecting Jake to be happy with his explanation. "I'm taking Calleigh to the ER."

But the backlash never came. Instead, Jake's expression softened, the irritation in his eyes dimming. "The ER? Why?" he asked. "She's okay, isn't she?"

Eric couldn't help but be surprised by the amount of true concern in Jake's voice. "She says she's fine," Eric replied, watching Jake carefully, "but I've heard that enough from her that I don't completely believe her when she says it."

"She _was _pretty shaken up," Jake murmured, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Eric agreed. "I just really want to take her by the ER and make sure she's okay. Make sure she doesn't have a concussion or anything like that." He paused for a moment, really not wanting to add his next thought, but knowing it was the right thing to do. "You're welcome to come with us, Jake."

Jake gave Eric an appraising look, once more unable to figure the other man out. When he combined this moment with the moment he'd witnessed earlier between Eric and Calleigh, Jake honestly didn't know what to think about the other man. He did seem like a decent guy, and he was one of Calleigh's closest friends...but was that all it was? Jake was really beginning to wonder about that. He really didn't trust Eric, for a number of reasons. After all, Jake did have ears; he'd heard a few things over the past year.

Part of him wondered if maybe this wasn't some scheme. Was Eric only offering him a ride because he knew Jake would refuse? And if Jake didn't refuse, what would happen then? It wasn't something Jake particularly wanted to find out, though. He gave a heavy sigh, his eyes surveying once more the scene around them. "Nah, I'm fine," he muttered.

Eric raised an eyebrow. "You sure?" he asked carefully. He didn't know why he insisted; Eric certainly didn't _want_ Jake to accompany them. "That looks -"

"I said I'm fine, Delko," Jake persisted sharply.

Eric tossed up his hands in surrender. "You know what; fine. I was just trying to -"

"I know what you were trying to do."

Eric's eyes widened slightly at the badly concealed bitterness in Jake's voice. After all, he was only trying to be considerate. He never really needed to say anything to Jake at all; Eric could've just left the other man in the dark. "Look, Jake, I'm not trying to do anything but help," he countered. "I don't know what you think I'm trying to do, and I really don't care. The only thing that I'm concerned about right now is making sure that Calleigh's okay, and I'd have thought you would be too."

Jake shook his head slightly in disgust. "I _do_ care about Calleigh," he argued quietly. "I don't appreciate the implication that I don't."

"Well, I'm glad you finally made that clear," Eric replied, taking a step back. "It just seems strange to me that you don't want to go with her to the ER. Doesn't sound to me like you want to make sure she's okay."

"What can I do to help her if we're sitting in a waiting room for hours?" Jake asked seriously. "I do want to be with her, and if I didn't think she was okay, I _would_ be. And I think I know Calleigh a little better than you do. She doesn't want the entire world fussing over her. I can do more to help if I stay here and help out."

Eric didn't bother telling Jake that there likely wasn't much he could do here at the scene. "Okay, fine," he replied with a shrug. "I don't care what you do. I was only thinking about what Calleigh might've wanted." With that, Eric turned and swiftly headed back toward his car.

His footfalls softened, though, the closer he came to the car. Angry thoughts of Jake left his mind, replaced by concern for Calleigh. That concern grew as he opened his door and slipped inside with her, as Calleigh barely even acknowledged his presence. She was too still, too quiet. Eric just wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, but he didn't give in to that urge, knowing it wouldn't help the situation. Instead, he quietly started the car and began to drive them toward the ER.

They were halfway down the highway before Eric finally broke the silence. He couldn't take it; he needed to talk to her. He wasn't used to quiet, somber Calleigh. "Do you want to tell me what happened tonight?" he asked softly, hoping she didn't think he was prying. He didn't want to push - after all, he'd already gotten her to let him take her to the ER. This was still Calleigh Duquesne. There was only so much he could get from her before she inevitably closed down.

"No," she groaned, leaning forward in the seat. She rested her head in her hands for a moment.

Eric nodded, watching the road in front of him. "Okay."

Calleigh straightened up again, a deep sigh escaping her. "We were arguing," she explained quietly, looking down at her hands. "I was mad…not paying attention, I guess. Suddenly, Jake was grabbing at the wheel, and then the airbag was in my face. Next thing I knew, Jake was helping the driver of the other car, and I was standing in the middle of the street trying to remember what happened..."

_Jake._

It came as a jolt to her, shocking her away from the present. Where was Jake now? Calleigh couldn't remember where he had gone; what he had been doing. She remembered him helping her out of the car. She remembered him touching her shoulders gently, reluctant to embrace her completely for fear of hurting her. She remembered him asking her to stay put while he checked on the other driver.

And that had been the last time she'd seen him. She didn't know if he was okay or not. Jake had obviously been running on adrenaline, from both the argument and the wreck. What if the effects of that had masked any injuries?

It was a horrible sequence of events that coursed through her mind; Calleigh could see it so clearly. Jake, moving about as though nothing was wrong, but wincing slightly, holding his side while nobody was looking. His face pale, his eyes dull, his breathing becoming steadily more labored, a sweat breaking out along his brow - and he was just like Calleigh; she knew that if Jake were really hurt, he wouldn't be likely to bring attention to it. If he were hurt, Jake would let it fester, thinking it was merely a cramp or something like that; something short-lived. Calleigh could just see him, sinking to the ground somewhere out of sight under the pretense of catching his breath, but instead succumbing to the pain and the possible internal bleeding.

Calleigh had been through enough close calls with the man. She knew how he acted; she knew how stubborn he was. That knowledge, combined with uncertainty and not knowing where he was, along with Calleigh's current stress level…it put a vision in her mind. Despite the fact that Jake had seemed fine moments before, Calleigh couldn't prevent herself from seeing him sitting at the side of the road, barely holding on to consciousness, then losing it altogether…

"Calleigh?"

Calleigh sucked in a breath, startled. She hadn't realized just how fiercely her heart was pounding; just how unsteady her breathing had become. She was gripping the armrest tightly, and the shaking in her body was apparent. She felt a warmth creep into her cheeks, and she ducked her head, trying to hide from Eric the fact that she'd lost control of her thoughts. She took in a few deep, steadying breaths, but she just couldn't force the frightening image of Jake hurt from her mind.

Eric watched her carefully from the corner of his eye, though he kept most of his attention focused on the road before him. After all, Calleigh had had enough of a scare on the road today. He'd felt her close down right next to him; he'd seen the way she'd unconsciously gripped onto anything she could hold, her knuckles paling in the process. And Eric knew that this wasn't anything uncommon - Calleigh had just been in a wreck. She was likely scared; she would likely be jittery for a little while. But this was _Calleigh._ What scared Eric wasn't that she seemed panicky; what scared him was that he'd just never seen Calleigh quite like this before.

He lay a tentative hand on her shoulder, feeling her tense beneath it. "Everything okay?" he asked softly, wishing she would look at him.

Calleigh sighed, squeezing her eyes tightly closed for a second. "I can't stop thinking about…" she began, but quickly stopped herself. She _didn't_ want to think about it; she didn't want to talk about it. What she wanted…what she needed…was to know that Jake was okay. That _they_ were okay.

To her dismay, Eric latched onto her broken sentence. "About what?" he asked gently.

She knew that Jake wasn't the best subject to bring up with Eric; just as Eric now wasn't the best subject to discuss with Jake. But the not knowing - it gnawed at her, twisting her stomach, running rampant through her imagination. It gave her an almost ominous feeling; a feeling which wouldn't be suppressed by logic. She had seen Jake. He had looked fine. It was the nagging voice at the back of her mind which she couldn't ignore though.

"I just…" she gave a helpless shrug. She needed to get some kind of confirmation. "Where's Jake?"

Eric gave an imperceptible flinch. It did rather hurt that in this moment, while he was thinking only of Calleigh, she had to be thinking of Jake. He bit his lip, wanting to choose his words carefully before he said anything.

His silence struck Calleigh, and she felt her heart skip a beat. "He's okay, isn't he?" she asked, amazed at how calm her voice sounded, despite the emotional turmoil within.

"He's fine," Eric replied quietly. "He just felt the need to stay behind and help out."

Calleigh frowned. "Oh." What did that mean exactly? Did Jake really want to help out? What was there he could do, and even if there was something, wouldn't it have been a conflict of interest? So was he really helping out, or was he still angry? Did he just not want to be with Calleigh tonight? What about tomorrow night? Or any of the nights to come? Did he not care anymore?

Calleigh was completely unprepared for the ache that struck her heart at that train of thought. If anything, the confirmation that Jake was okay only made her feel worse. Before, he wasn't with her because he might've been hurt. Now, though, there was the possibility that he just didn't want anything more to do with her.

And now, here was Eric, who was another puzzle in himself. He'd made it clear weeks before that he didn't want anything to do with her. And in one day, all that had changed? He'd been cold to her for so long, and now, all of a sudden, he was back to being her best friend? Just like that?

None of this made any sense to Calleigh at all. Every time she thought she was finally figuring everything out, something else came along and mixed it all back up. Why couldn't anything ever be simple?

"You know," Eric commented quietly, once more startling Calleigh out of her thoughts. As he turned into the parking lot, he glanced to her from the corner of his eye. "You were lucky tonight."

It wasn't exactly the choice of words Calleigh would've used, and she couldn't help but give a quiet, cynical laugh. "Lucky? I just totaled my car, Eric. There's no way I'm going to be able to afford something new right now. My entire body is going to be killing me for the next week. How is any of that lucky?"

"It's lucky that Jake was paying attention, because that wreck could've been a whole lot worse. It's lucky that it was the other driver's fault and not yours. It's lucky that I'm the one taking you to the ER, and not an ambulance or a helicopter." Maybe Calleigh couldn't see it, not tonight, but Eric knew there were a million ways that she could be considered lucky tonight.

The silence filled the small car as he pulled into a parking space, quickly cutting off the engine. Before Calleigh could move, he reached over, gently laying his hand atop hers. Startled, she looked up, immediately falling victim to his dark gaze. It'd been a while since she'd been privy to that look. It was a look of compassion, so different from the bitter gaze, that look of agony he'd been sporting since that night not too long ago. As he spoke once more, Calleigh found that she couldn't look away.

"It's lucky that you're still here."


	11. Nightmares

_**Chapter Eleven**_  
**_Nightmares_  
- **

_Floating. The idea was absurd, but what other term could explain the way Calleigh moved so effortlessly down the hallway? It was as though her feet never hit the ground. She almost craved to hear the steady, comforting clack of her own heels against the tile floor, but no matter how much force she directed into her steps, the resulting sound was immediately swallowed up by the surrounding silence. _

_It was an unnerving silence, almost as unnerving as the pure, white walls, the spotless white floors. Even the doors were white, and suddenly, Calleigh felt very out of place in her all black attire. She stuck out; she didn't belong there. _

_A dash of color caught her eye, standing out brightly against the bland white tile. Closer examination confirmed her worst fears - the deep red liquid was none other than blood. Being a CSI, seeing blood was part of her everyday life, but here and now, it was different. The sight of this blood twisted her stomach into knots, made her dizzy. It wasn't just anybody's blood. _

_As she moved, the single spot of red seemed to grow, spreading itself more and more over the white tile, until no longer was the tile white, but red. Calleigh hastened her pace, as though trying to outrun it, but the faster she moved, the faster the blood seemed to accumulate. She knew that nobody who'd lost that much blood could ever, ever hope to survive. It was just too much. _

_It seemed to pool just outside of the last room on the left, the room which Calleigh somehow already knew was her destination. It was as she approached that room that the first semblance of sound reached her ears - Calleigh could hear the distant hum of hospital monitors, as well as muffled voices. There was an urgency in the words spoken; an urgency which infused itself into Calleigh's steps as well. _

_All too soon it seemed she reached those double doors, and as she looked through the windows, Calleigh was overcome with such a strong sensation of dizziness. She felt as though she would collapse, and part of her wished she would. The sight which she had beheld wasn't something she ever wanted to see. _

_It was Eric. He was the one hooked up to all the monitors. He was the one whose blood was on the floor. He was the one whose life hung in the balance. He was the one who lay on the table unconscious, blood pouring from the wounds in his leg and head, despite the efforts to stem that bleeding. _

_It was a horrific sight - watching the doctors and nurses flit about the room as if they had not a clue what to do, and, with a jolt of fear, Calleigh realized that they probably didn't. It wasn't everyday that they even tried to save somebody injured as badly as Eric; usually those patients were dead before they ever made it to the ER. They'd probably done about all they knew to do, and still Eric was unresponsive. _

_The sharpest alarm of all suddenly filled the air, and Calleigh pressed her face to the glass in fear as she realized what exactly that alarm signified. The trauma team realized it too, each of them moving a bit more frantically; one grabbing the paddles in anticipation, another on the phone sending out an urgent page for more help, one performing compressions…all of it wasted effort. Nothing was changing; Eric was slipping away. "We're losing him!" called a nurse, taking a quick look at all the monitors. Eric was flatlining. _

_The doctor merely shook her head, unwilling to give up. "Not yet," she said, her voice commanding authority throughout the small trauma room. "Push another amp of epi, stat." _

_The nurse protested. "But he's already had -" _

_"I don't care what he's already had," the doctor snapped, "give him another" _

_"He's been down for forty-seven minutes," piped up an intern. He cowered under the glare of the attending physician, his momentary nerve fading quickly. _

_"I don't care how long he's been down," the doctor roared. "We have to save him. That's our job; we're here to save lives! Now somebody page me a damn surgeon!" _

_"Doctor, he's not going to make it to surgery. He's lost too much blood; he'll never be stable enough." _

_The doctor refused to listen to reason, however. Outside the glass, Calleigh bit her lip anxiously as the team continued to work on Eric. Her own heart pounded frantically, just as frantically as the doctor performed compressions on Eric's chest. Electricity passed through Calleigh's body each time they shocked Eric with the paddles. _

_Still, he was unresponsive. He'd been unresponsive for longer than Calleigh could remember. It was chilling, seeing Eric lying there on the table, his eyes closed, his heart not beating on its own, his life quickly slipping away…or perhaps it already had. She could hear the alarms sounding from the monitors, a shrill, deafening, unending echo. Calleigh wanted to scream at the doctors, to make the noise stop, but as she opened her mouth, no sound would come out. _

_Holding the paddles, the doctor in charge lifted her head, and Calleigh let out a strangled gasp. In the scrubs, wearing the pristine white coat, trying so desperately to save her best friend's life…it was none other than Calleigh herself. The logical part of her would've admonished her for thinking she could be in two places at once. _

_The problem was, there was no logical part of her. Logic had ceased to exist the moment Eric was wheeled into the ER, gunshot wounds to the leg and the head. Logic had ceased to exist the moment that losing Eric became a possibility. _

_"He's gone, doctor. You need to call it." _

_Defeated, Calleigh let the paddles fall from her hands. She cast a glance skyward, as though searching for divine intervention, though none was to be found. The Calleigh outside the glass doors screamed without sound. They couldn't just let Eric go. _

_She couldn't just let Eric go, could she? _

_Could she? _

_As though in answer to the unvoiced question, the Calleigh in the white coat slumped her shoulders and reached out, flipping a switch on the monitor. The piercing hum sharply gave way to a deafening silence. _

_It was a deafening silence that within seconds was broken; broken by her own, steady voice. She took the offered chart from a nurse and signed it, before ripping her gloves from her hands and tossing them to the floor. _

_"Time of death: 1:04 PM."_

**_.. _**

Calleigh awoke with a jolt. Breathing heavily, she stared into the darkness, not exactly knowing where she was. In time, her eyes adjusted enough to make out the walls and the ceilings of her own bedroom, and Calleigh breathed out in relief, though a small relief it was. Slowly she sat up, lifting a shaky hand to her clammy forehead.

Her heart continued to pound in her chest, and it took her a good few minutes to even begin to calm herself down and convince herself it had only been a dream.

But it had felt so real. She could still see Eric lying there, his empty eyes staring up at her as she stood helpless, unable to breathe life back into him. The image sent a shudder through her body, and Calleigh pulled the bedspread tight around her body, trying to ward off the shivers. It didn't help though; she was still just as cold while wrapped within the blankets. She felt like she had just jumped into an icy lake in the middle of January.

She half-expected to hear a sleepy grumble from her left, irritated at her for stealing the covers again, but it was a grumble that never came. Shivering again, Calleigh turned her head, distressed to find the opposite side of the bed empty; untouched.

Calleigh was still disoriented from sleep, but it was more than obvious that Jake had not come home. After the fight they'd had, Calleigh couldn't blame him, but she couldn't deny it would've felt nice to have him there beside her. She knew he would've woken her, had he noticed any kind of distress in her sleep. She knew he would've held her upon waking, reassuring her that she'd only had a nightmare.

She was reminded of one other time, so many years ago. A particularly harrowing case in New Orleans had gotten to her, back when she was still young, green on the job. As soon as she had awoken, she'd been locked in Jake's arms. He'd sacrificed the sleep he'd needed just to sit up with her and hold her until she drifted back into sleep, which Calleigh believed she was able to do only because he was there, holding her. He didn't speak, he didn't ask her to talk. He knew that what she needed was for him to just be there, and so he was.

So where was he now? Calleigh had been so sure that Jake would've come home tonight. She'd doubted it earlier, but as she'd slipped into bed for the night, Calleigh had convinced herself that he was okay; if he wasn't, she would've heard something. She had convinced herself that he would come home, because he always did. Even in the past when he was gone for weeks, sometimes months, he would always come back. And now, tonight, he hadn't come home. And while Calleigh certainly didn't need a man around in order to feel happy and safe, she couldn't deny that she felt...different. It was a feeling that she couldn't explain, but it was definitely there.

But even if Jake had been right there beside her, Calleigh knew she couldn't tell him what was bothering her. After the fight they'd had in the car about Eric, Calleigh couldn't possibly share with Jake that she'd had a nightmare about losing Eric. Just the very idea was ridiculous, and it wasn't a scenario that would end well either. Either Jake would be upset that Eric was still so firmly entrenched in Calleigh's mind, or he would be upset that Calleigh couldn't talk to him. It might've just led to another fight in the end.

Forfeiting the blankets, Calleigh pulled herself out of bed with a yawn. A glance to the clock on her bedside table revealed that it was half past three - only two hours after she'd first fallen into a restless sleep. It'd been barely an hour before that when Eric had brought her home, after their visit to the ER had deemed her fine. He'd seemed reluctant to leave her, though her insistence that Jake would be home soon had seemed to appease him.

But Jake hadn't come home, and Eric hadn't stayed, leaving Calleigh home alone. Usually, that was quite alright with her. But after the night she'd had, a little company would've been nice.

She pulled on her robe, tying it tightly around her body before quietly making her way out to the kitchen. For a moment she stood, staring blankly into the sink, as though looking for answers. She ignored the temptation, strong though it was, to turn on the faucet and splash water over her clammy skin. Instead, she settled for a glass of water, only to pour it back down the drain upon deciding she didn't want it anyway.

With heavy steps, Calleigh made her way to the living room, pausing only for a moment to gaze toward the front door. Part of her wanted desperately to go look out, but she knew it would only make her feel worse. With an unsettled sigh, she turned on a lamp, blinking a few times as the low light met her weary eyes. Still rather shaken, she lowered herself gingerly onto the couch, wincing slightly. Aside from a few cuts and scratches, Calleigh hadn't been hurt at the scene, but now that she was home, the bruises were beginning to grow. She reached out for a pillow, holding it to her chest as she bit her lip. She was unwilling to admit it, even silently, but Calleigh was almost afraid to tempt sleep again.

The only thought that served to calm her was, strangely, the fact that she had wrecked earlier that evening. Calleigh didn't often have nightmares; usually, they only plagued her sleep after a trauma such as that. She'd grown up with nightmares, but they'd disappeared once she'd left home. Sparingly she'd had them over the past ten years, but never without Calleigh being stressed just before she'd gone to sleep.

She had only had two nightmares over the past year. The first happened the night after she'd been run off the road into the canal; the night after Jake had first crashed back into her life. And the second time…

The last time she'd had a nightmare, it'd been the night after Eric had been shot. It had been on Horatio's orders that Calleigh had finally gone home that night. For hours she'd tossed and turned, watching the hours tick by on the clock at her bedside. And no sooner than restless sleep had found her, she had woken again; drenched in sweat, heart pounding, unable to breathe.

Just as she'd awoken only moments before.

She knew it was because of the wreck. She knew it was because of trauma. For those reasons, she never let herself read too much into her nightmares. And it was a good thing too; Calleigh wasn't sure if she could handle whatever messages her subconscious mind was trying to send her.

Calleigh shook her head, hoping desperately to clear it, allowing her eyes to stray to the side table. A third object had joined the cordless phone and the picture that Calleigh so deeply treasured. It was a vase of roses; the roses Jake had presented her with the last time they'd gone out to dinner. They were by no means wilting, but the very first petals had begun to fall, collecting on the tabletop below. And somehow, Calleigh just couldn't make herself clean them up.

The irony was not lost on her; even on her side table Calleigh couldn't decide what she wanted; who she wanted. Was it Jake, who had given her the roses? Or was it Eric, who with his bright smile had pulled Calleigh close him for the photograph to be taken?

She had no idea.

With a slight groan of pain, Calleigh reached out, taking the phone from its base. Her hands shook as she cradled it, the need to hear a soothing voice suddenly raging within her. But as the minutes passed, she progressed no further than simply turning the phone on and off again. She couldn't bring herself to dial the number; any number.

And who could she call? Surely not Eric, though Calleigh knew he would willingly sit up with her all night, without her even needing to ask. But he was tired; she'd seen it in his eyes. He needed to sleep, and it was far closer to dawn than evening. She couldn't call him this late; she shouldn't really be calling him at all.

But Jake…who even knew where he was tonight? For all Calleigh knew, he never wanted to see her again. She knew he'd been more upset than he'd let on, and it wasn't all anger either. He'd been hurt, but Calleigh couldn't deny that his words had wounded her as well. But the fact remained; if he'd wanted to talk to her, he would've come home.

It wasn't about which one she'd rather talk to. It was that she couldn't rightfully call either of them. Not her best friend; not her boyfriend.

Still, Calleigh didn't want to spend the rest of the night sitting alone in the dark. Once more, she pressed a button on the phone, her ears filling with the familiar dial tone. She was left with one option. The one person who knew every one of her darkest secrets and fears. The one person who had shared those same dark secrets and fears, because he had lived through it too. For their entire childhood they'd both grown up depending only on each other; they'd always had each other's backs. It was the one person Calleigh had _always_ been able to depend on, no matter what. He was the only one in their entire dysfunctional family that had always been there for Calleigh, even after both of them had grown up and left home behind.

And she needed that tonight. She needed to hear a familiar voice; she needed to talk to somebody, really _talk_. She couldn't go to Jake; she couldn't go to Eric. She had girlfriends, but after Janet had died, Calleigh had been almost afraid to get close to the rest of them. And, sad as it sounded, most of her friends were either in the lab, or at the police department itself anyway. Calleigh needed to talk to somebody, anybody, who had _no_ connection to Eric or Jake, or even to Miami.

As her fingers tapped out the still familiar number, Calleigh briefly wondered about the time, but quickly she let that thought fall away. After all, it'd been with him that Calleigh had spent numerous late nights sitting on the stairs. She knew he still shared her same night-owlish tendencies; something they'd both gotten from their mother.

She hesitated for a moment as a voice sounded from the other end, and she couldn't help but smile slightly. Her instincts had been right - her brother's voice didn't sound remotely tired. With a deep breath, Calleigh summoned her voice, already feeling a little better than she had before. "Hey, Evan. It's me."


	12. One Thousand Apologies

_**Chapter Twelve**_  
**_One Thousand Apologies_  
- **

_"Calleigh, you know I can't tell you what to do." _

_Calleigh sighed, the hand not holding the phone rubbing at her tired eyes. "I know, Evan. But I've given you relationship advice before, haven't I?" _

_"Bad advice," Evan snorted, and Calleigh suddenly wished she could reach through the phone and smack her brother. Despite the small grin that had formed on her lips, not to mention how talking to him had made her feel a lot better, she hardly thought her current predicament was something to joke about. "I was kidding, sis," Evan added when Calleigh didn't reply. He let out a breath, serious once more. "Cal, the entire reason I always came to you for advice was because obviously I'm terrible with relationships. You, on the other hand…you were always so happy; you always knew exactly what you were doing. If I've learned anything about relationships, it's only what you taught me." _

_"So, no advice?" Calleigh asked, feeling slightly let down. _

_"Cal, the only thing I can tell you is what you already know." _

_"Which is?" _

_"You can't have them both, sis. If you try to hold on to both of them, you're going to end up losing both of them." _

_**..**  
_

First light was breaking over the ocean, projecting a peaceful calm into the clear air; the calm, the quiet of early morning. It was a tranquility that could be felt, but not harnessed, and therefore it did little more than light the sky for Jake as he slipped his key into the lock, effortlessly turning it and pushing the door open.

Despite the fact that he was a homicide detective and not a CSI, and that obviously it could've been seen as a conflict of interests, Jake had convinced the investigating officers to let him stick around and observe. It wasn't that he wanted to help, but Jake didn't know what else he could do. He didn't want to go to the hospital, even though the airbag burns on his arms from where he'd grabbed the wheel stung like hell. He didn't want to go to his apartment, because aside from being empty, it didn't feel like home. But he didn't want to go home either. He'd needed some time to think, to cool off before he went to Calleigh.

Before he knew it, she was before him. She was sitting at the counter wrapped in her pale pink robe, her shoulders slumped. One elbow rested on the countertop, her chin resting in her hand. The other hand was occupied by the coffee cup that sat on the counter. Her eyes were downcast, her face hidden by her blonde hair.

"I'd wondered whether I'd be seeing you again," she said softly, absently stirring her coffee.

Jake sighed. "I'm sorry," he murmured, tentatively taking a few steps closer. When she didn't object, he took a seat next to her at the counter. Still, Calleigh didn't react, and, holding his breath, Jake reached out to her, letting his fingertips graze along her cheek as he slid a curtain of blonde behind her ear.

For the first time, she glanced at him, and Jake felt his heart skip a beat. Her eyes were puffy, reddened; and unable to stop himself, he reached out again, gently tilting her chin toward him. Concern painted his voice as he spoke. "You - have you been…?

Closing her eyes, Calleigh gave a wry chuckle. "No," she answered quietly, shaking Jake's touch away, much to his dismay. "I just didn't sleep any, that's all. I, uh, had a bit of a rough night."

Regret surged through his body at her words. His first priority last night should've been to get home to her. For the first time, Jake realized just what his "necessary" cooling-off time may have done to Calleigh. "I'm sorry I wasn't here," he said, truly meaning it.

Calleigh shrugged. "I've learned never to expect you, Jake," she said coolly, lifting her hands to her face as soon as the words had left her mouth. "That was cold," she groaned, her voice softened. "I'm sorry."

Jake shook his head. "Nah, I deserved that," he murmured.

"No, you didn't." She sighed deeply, feeling absolutely terrible. "You don't deserve any of this."

Confused, Jake sat next to her, watching her closely. "Any of what, Cal?" His heart quickened in his chest; he hoped she wasn't trying to say what he was afraid she was saying. Nearly losing her the night before had taken quite the toll on him; Jake wasn't sure he could handle really, truly losing her, all over again. "Talk to me, Cal," he coaxed gently, wishing she would at least look at him.

Instead, she leaned forward, covering her face with her hands. "You shouldn't have to deal with this," she mumbled.

Jake shook his head. "Calleigh, baby, what are you talking about?"

"Last night, Jake," Calleigh clarified softly, "Last night -"

"Was last night," Jake finished for her, reaching out to her. Lightly he stroked her blonde locks, loving the softness beneath his fingertips. "It was a bad night, but it was just one night."

"But everything starts out as one bad night, Jake," Calleigh whispered, almost afraid to lift her voice. "One bad night, one bad day. It turns into one bad week; one bad month, one bad year…" Tightly she closed her eyes, willing away those bad memories. "We've been there, Jake."

"Yeah, and now we know how not to go back there."

"Jake…" Calleigh rubbed her temples, trying to make sense of her own thoughts. Her head was pounding, thanks to both the wreck and the subsequent lack of sleep, making forming coherent thoughts all that much harder. Jake's voice was strong, steady, and the idea that maybe he meant what he was saying caused a slight fluttering sensation within Calleigh's chest, a fluttering sensation that warred with the guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Sweetheart," Jake murmured, and Calleigh couldn't help but melt at the endearment. His fingers traced tiny circles over her arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He wished they were sitting on the couch, rather than in separate chairs at the counter. Jake needed to touch her; he needed to hold her. "We made mistakes before. This time around, we know how not to make those mistakes." He paused, a shadow flitting across his eyes. "Unless…unless you don't want to keep from making those mistakes. Unless you don't want this…"

"God, Jake, no," Calleigh said quickly, feeling even worse as her ears picked up on the pain in Jake's voice. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" Jake asked, desperately needing an answer. "Because I'm confused. Before yesterday, I thought we were good."

Calleigh almost wished he was angry with her again. Anger she could deal with; she didn't like to, but she could. It was thinking that she was doing nothing but hurting him that really got to her. "Can we talk about this later, Jake?" Calleigh murmured. Her thoughts were so jumbled in her head that she knew they wouldn't come out of her mouth correctly. She knew if she said anything else right now, she would end up making everything worse.

Jake winced. Why was she hiding from him again? Was it because he hadn't come home last night? Had she really, truly wanted him here? He sighed, feeling his own exhaustion threaten to take him over. "Only if you'll promise me that there will be a later," he said quietly. "I really want you to talk to me, Cal. I honestly don't have a clue what you're feeling right now. I don't know if there's something I should be doing, if I've done something wrong…"

Calleigh usually couldn't hide from Jake if she wanted to, but for some reason, he just wasn't seeing this. He was confused, and everything that left Calleigh's mouth seemed to come out wrong. Maybe it was trauma; maybe they were both still in shock from the night before. Jake couldn't see it, and Calleigh couldn't give voice to it.

It was a such a strong sense of guilt that had crashed into her. It was her fault that she'd let the specifics of that crime scene yesterday get to her. It was her fault that Jake perceived her as running to Eric; she certainly hadn't stuck around to let him in, and the next thing Jake had seen was her talking to Eric. It was her fault that Jake was upset; her fault that they'd had a wreck. Calleigh was the guilty one; all of it had been her fault, and Jake…Jake didn't deserve to be pulled down in that. He certainly didn't deserve to think it was all his fault. It was Calleigh's, not Jake's.

But Calleigh didn't know how to tell him. She didn't know how to tell him that she was sorry, and the one time that she needed him to see that, he couldn't.

"Later," Calleigh agreed quietly, avoiding his eyes. The problem was, later had been last night. She had wanted him home last night, and he hadn't come. She had wanted him to comfort her last night, and he hadn't been there. Now, it was morning. Life had to move on; there just wasn't time right now to linger. "Can I borrow your car?" she asked, standing quickly. She needed to put some space between them, until she could work out what she was feeling this time around. Funnily enough, in that moment, Eric was nowhere near her mind; in that moment, Calleigh was torn between falling into Jake's arms, or shutting him out, pushing him away. One choice carried the possibility of him hurting her again; something Calleigh wasn't very fond of. But the other choice would almost certainly end with her heart broken, this time by her own hands.

Either way, it wasn't a choice she wanted to make right now, so she did the only thing she felt she could do: run.

Jake stared. "What?"

"I need to go to work today," Calleigh explained, avoiding his eyes. "Obviously I don't have a car right now. Can I borrow yours?"

"You know you don't even have to ask me that," Jake said automatically. "Of course you can, but…"

Calleigh raised an eyebrow. "But what?"

"I'd rather you didn't, though. I just - I don't think you should go to work today," he said protectively. Jake expected the hard gaze he received in return, but that didn't faze him. He was concerned. "Why don't you take the day off?"

Already shaking her head, Calleigh shot down the very idea. "I'm fine, Jake. I've never taken a sick day, and I'm not about to start now."

"I'm not saying you need to take one. I just thought that, after last night, you might want a day off. Time to rest, time to think…" _Time to talk. _

Calleigh gave a soft sigh, and for a moment Jake thought maybe she would oblige. But, no such luck. "I'm perfectly okay. I'm not hurt; there's nothing going on that would affect my work. I need to save my sick days for if I really do get sick or something," she said, the logic making perfect sense to her. She had no need to stay home. She needed to feel productive; to feel useful. And she couldn't do that if she stayed home and talked about what had distracted her the night before. She forced a small smile in Jake's direction, then began heading toward the hallway.

"Hey, wait a minute," Jake called softly, jumping from his seat. He slipped in front of Calleigh, effectively stopping her. He knew her mind was made up and that there was no way to change it, but if she wouldn't talk to him, then Jake at least needed her to know what had eaten at him all night. Gently he rested his palms on her upper arms, letting her decide if she needed to be closer or farther away from him. "Look, last night…"

Calleigh sighed. "Jake, didn't we agree on later?" she pleaded, lifting her eyes to him at last. "I need to get ready."

"I know, Cal. I just need you to know…" he paused, knowing he needed the right words. "I said a lot of things I didn't mean last night," he said finally, looking Calleigh deep in the eyes. "I'm sorry."

Calleigh gave a slight nod before, to Jake's surprise, she stepped into his embrace, her own arms looping around his waist. "Me too," she murmured against his chest, closing her eyes. She felt his arms tighten around her; she felt his lips brush her hair. And it felt good. Even through her confusion, Calleigh couldn't deny that it felt extremely good to be locked tightly within his arms.

But while it felt wonderful, something wasn't right. She could've killed them both last night, so why was Jake welcoming her back into his arms so easily? Why was he the one apologizing to her?

No matter how she looked at it, Calleigh knew that for every time Jake apologized, she owed him a thousand.

**..**

"What are you doing here?"

Calleigh smirked slightly at the astonishment in his voice. "I work here; didn't you know?" she teased, looking up from her scope. Much to her delight, the morning had been quiet. Calleigh had been able to easily hide away in her ballistics lab and work on open cases. As she had walked into the lab that morning, she had forced herself to leave everything at the door, at least for the morning; she needed that much. Her confusion, her guilt, her pain - all of that she pushed away, throwing herself into the soothing, predictable motions of her work.

She knew she was running, but at the moment, it had been what she needed to do. She needed to clear her mind before trying to talk to Jake. And she couldn't think of a better way to clear her mind than by analyzing bullets and casings.

By the time her first visitor stopped into her lab, mid-morning had come and gone, and despite her exhaustion, Calleigh was feeling better, so much that she even found herself smiling and joking with Eric, amused that he honestly did seem surprised to see her at work. Really, he knew her better than that, didn't he?

Her smile started the butterflies fluttering in Eric's stomach. Despite the slight circles beneath her eyes and the faint bruising from the wreck, she was still gorgeous. Her eyes even sparkled, and Eric hadn't seen that in a while. He grinned at her sassy reply; there was the Calleigh he was used to. "I knew that," he shot back with a chuckle. "I don't know; I guess I just figured Camden would be working firearms today." He shrugged. "I would've taken today off if I were in your shoes."

"Well, there's the difference between you and me. I couldn't just sit at home today and do nothing if I'd wanted to."

"And Jake was okay with that?" Eric asked curiously.

Calleigh sighed. She didn't want to go there with Eric. Instead she lowered her head, once more concentrating on the bullet in her scope. "You're here about the bullet from the Murphy case, right?"

Eric blinked. "Uh, yeah," he replied, scratching his head in confusion. Calleigh had completely ignored his question about Jake; what did that mean? It had been a simple enough question, hadn't it? Surely Jake couldn't have been okay with letting her come back to work so soon. Eric had only seen the aftermath of the wreck, and he knew he wouldn't have wanted to let Calleigh out of his sight. But Jake had actually been a part of the wreck. Jake knew Calleigh was shaken, just as Eric knew. Why did Jake let her come in without a fight?

But then again, Calleigh was headstrong. Maybe Jake had tried to talk her out of it, but he'd been unable to. Still, Eric couldn't help but seethe slightly at the idea that maybe he hadn't tried hard enough.

Even so, Eric knew it would be better to let it go. "Did you get something on it?" he asked, referring to the bullet. Slowly he took a few steps closer to her, plunging his hands into his pockets in effort to keep them to himself. As always when he neared her, his fingers were just itching to touch her.

"I sure did," Calleigh beamed, seemingly back in her comfort zone. "Already did a test-fire, analyzed the results, even got the report ready for you." Straightening up, she pulled a folder from her desk, handing it to Eric. "Here you go."

"Wow, you're good," Eric said.

"Don't sound so surprised," Calleigh sassed.

Eric chuckled. "I'm not; of course I'm not. I just…that was fast."

Calleigh grinned. "I can be efficient, when I want to be."

Shaking his head in amusement, Eric quickly thumbed through the file. He was sure there was more to it than Calleigh simply being efficient. She was always efficient. But from the obvious amount of work that Calleigh had gotten done this morning, she had to be absolutely throwing herself into it, something she did when she was bothered. And just because Eric understood; just because he honestly didn't want to pry, it didn't mean he wasn't concerned. "So, are you doing okay?" he asked conversationally, glancing up from the file.

Calleigh let out a breath, and without thinking she tucked her hair behind her ears. "I'm okay, yeah."

Her words went unheard by Eric, though. His eyes had followed her hand, widening slightly as she unknowingly revealed the gash at the side of her face. Until now, and Eric assumed the night before too, her hair had kept it well hidden. "I thought you said you weren't hurt," he said quietly.

It was then that Calleigh realized what she must've done. Even though it was a little late, she instinctively shook her hair back out again, once more allowing it to hide the cut. "I'm not."

Eric lifted an eyebrow, looking at her skeptically. "Then what did you just hide from me?"

Calleigh sighed. "It's just a scrape, Eric. It's no big deal." Mentally she kicked herself; why did Eric have to notice that?

"Looks like a little more than a scrape to me," Eric said, setting the file back on the table. Before he even realized what he was doing, Eric moved around to Calleigh's side of the table, his fingers reaching out to gently brush her golden locks back behind her ear again. He felt Calleigh tense beneath his touch, but he didn't let that deter him. "This looks pretty deep…"

Calleigh breathed in, trying to steady herself. "It's fine, Eric," she mumbled, feeling in every part of her body just how close Eric was to her. "The doc at the ER…he said it was fine. It'll heal…" She swallowed, wishing she could move her feet. She needed some distance between them, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot. "It looks worse than it is."

It wasn't as comforting as she thought it was, considering that to Eric, that cut looked fairly bad. But if a doctor had told her it was okay, what could he do?

Gently he brushed his fingertips around it, not missing Calleigh's sharp intake of air. "Sorry," he murmured; he hadn't meant to hurt her. Eric resisted the intense urge to brush his lips over her it, but only barely. Merely touching her was doing a number on that restraint. Her skin was so smooth beneath his fingertips, her hair so soft. With every breath he was breathing in the sweet scent of her perfume, and it was driving his resident butterflies crazy. His heart was racing, though it skipped several beats when she opened her beautiful green eyes and looked directly into his. In that moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist for Eric. There was just himself and Calleigh. There was no ballistics lab, there were no files that needed to be processed, no crimes to solve. And though his body was directly facing the exit, he was oblivious to the pair of curious eyes that lurked just outside the door, though they were only there for a couple of moments.

It was so hard to resist pressing a kiss to her skin, especially when that action was far tamer than what he wanted to do. He wanted to pull her close and kiss her until his head started to spin. He wanted to feel her in his arms; to feel her arms looped around his neck. He wanted Calleigh.

Finally regaining control of her own body, Calleigh took a few steps back, under the guise of getting back to work. "I've got a lot left to do," she mumbled, trying not to show how bothered the last couple of minutes had made her.

"Of course," Eric nodded. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Calleigh brushed off his apology, suddenly in a hurry. Taking another file from the desk, she forced a smile. "I need to get this ready for Horatio," she said.

"Yeah, I've got work to do too," Eric replied, feeling foolish for his actions in the past few minutes. "So I guess I'll talk to you later. Maybe we can get lunch or something…"

"Uh, sure, maybe," Calleigh replied distractedly. She avoided lifting her eyes, and she breathed a sigh of relief once she felt Eric moving away from her. But before she was completely out of the woods, Eric called back to her. She looked up, seeing him by the door, looking reluctant to leave.

"Calleigh," he began, shrugging slightly. "I, uh, I'm really glad you're okay."

Calleigh smiled softly. "Thanks, Eric."

Eric opened his mouth to reply, but decided against it. Instead he simply nodded before walking out of the lab, leaving Calleigh alone once more to plunge into her work.

And as he walked away from her lab, Eric couldn't help but feel dejected. He knew there was no chance of Calleigh actually having lunch with him today. And, if he would admit it, the chances of it happening in the future were looking rather slim as well.


	13. Common Knowledge

_**Chapter Thirteen**_  
**_Common Knowledge_  
- **

Early afternoon had come and gone, and while Eric had plenty of his own work to do, his mind had predictably strayed to Calleigh. He'd been more than surprised to see her at the lab that morning, especially after the events of the night before. At the ER, the doctor had told her to feel free to take it easy for a couple of days, because she likely had bruising that wouldn't appear until the morning or later. She didn't have a concussion as Eric had feared, but she'd hit her head all the same. And Eric knew all about head injuries being worse than they looked on the outside.

But the more he thought about it, the more Eric realized that perhaps he shouldn't be worried at all. Maybe he should've saved his worrying in case Calleigh _hadn't_ shown up at work. That woman would find it in her to work even if the entire world were crashing down around her. Eric allowed himself a slight smile; Calleigh was stubborn, there was no doubt about that. She lived to prove everybody wrong, and Eric couldn't help but love that about her a little more everyday.

It was a strange emotion, love. It seemed to creep up on Eric at the most inopportune times; but then again, it wasn't as though Eric had much to which he could compare this. This was unlike anything he'd ever felt. But still, he couldn't help but wonder. Why now?

Calleigh had been his closest friend for years. When Eric first started at CSI, sure, he'd fallen victim to her gorgeous looks and her Southern charm, just like so many other men. He'd been attracted to her, certainly, but that was nothing special; Eric knew for a fact that he wasn't the only one in the lab who'd once harbored a crush on her. It had caused him many an error in judgment in the past. In the beginning, before Calleigh became his closest friend, all he'd wanted to do was impress her...

**..**

_"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Calleigh asked, gazing intently down at her map. It was an afternoon in late May and for the first time, Eric had been paired with Calleigh alone on a case. They were on their way to the scene; Eric driving, Calleigh riding shotgun. Somehow, Calleigh hadn't seemed as amused by that pun as he had. But that was okay; Eric knew he could impress her some other way. And what better way than by showing off his knowledge of Miami's backroads? He knew just the shortcut to get them to their scene, in a third of the time. Eric could get them there quickly, they could process the scene, and then he could get them back to the lab quickly, which meant they could both be going home early. And then, maybe Eric could ask her out for drinks…_

_It was a foolproof plan, sure to earn Eric the coveted prize of Calleigh's praise and gratitude._

_But somewhere along the way, the definition of foolproof changed. Eric assumed it was somewhere between the time that he'd first left the main highway, and the time that this blinding, torrential rain had begun. Within moments, the visibility had been reduced to nothing, and Eric could see nothing but the endless wall of water pelting his windshield._

_But did he pull over and wait for the storm to pass?_

_Of course not. His ego wouldn't have allowed that. Instead, it pushed him to keep driving, to prove that he could hold his own in a rainstorm._

_So he drove on, though inside he became just a tiny bit scared, especially when the road beneath the Hummer became gravel instead of asphalt. But he said nothing. And so he drove on for what felt like ages, until Calleigh's question startled him out of his concentration. "Of course I know where I'm going," he replied, a little defensively. They were going to the crime scene; it didn't matter how they got there as long as they did get there._

_Calleigh nodded. "Really," she replied skeptically. "Because you look a little panicked."_

_"I'm not panicked." Eric Delko didn't panic. And if he did, he certainly didn't show it._

_"Okay, well, I don't see this road on the map," Calleigh continued, scanning it carefully._

_"Maybe it's just not on that map. It's an older map," he reasoned, still not willing to admit that he really didn't know where they were._

_"Or maybe this isn't an actual road," Calleigh argued. "And maybe you're lost."_

_"I'm not lost!" Eric protested. "We're just a bit off course, that's all."_

_Calleigh chuckled. "Sure. That's why we're driving down this little gravel path in the middle of who knows where, in the middle of a rainstorm. We're not lost at all."_

_"You're not helping," Eric growled. "And besides, we're -"_

_A loud crash echoed through the air, sending the Hummer into a skidding hydroplane. Eric maneuvered the wheel, managing to keep the large vehicle on the road until he could bring it to a complete stop._

_For a moment, there was silence. "What the hell was that?" Calleigh asked, wide-eyed._

_"By the sound of it, I think we blew out a tire," Eric replied, his heart pounding. "Happened to my sister once." Eric could feel the slight tilt to the Hummer, confirming his suspicions. But to his dismay, it didn't look as though the rain would be letting up anytime soon. Sighing heavily, Eric turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt._

_Calleigh stared. "What are you doing?"_

_Eric shrugged. "I'm going to check the tire," he said, as though it should've been obvious._

_"But you'll get soaked!" Calleigh exclaimed. "Why don't you just wait for the rain to stop?"_

_"It's South Florida," Eric smirked. "It could rain all night."_

_"But -"_

_Eric lifted an eyebrow. "Do you have an umbrella? Or a raincoat?" he asked, though he knew neither would help anyway. Not in this heavy rain._

_"Not with me, but - "_

_Eric gave a goofy grin, cutting her off once again. "Then I guess I'll get wet." He couldn't help but laugh at the look on Calleigh's face. "I'm a diver, Cal. A little water isn't going to hurt me." With a wink, he placed a hand on the door handle. "Call H and let him know what's happened. I'll be right back."_

_"Eric!" Calleigh called out, but her voice went either ignored or just unheard. Very quickly, Eric pushed open the door and disappeared into a wall of water._

_He was soaked to the bone within seconds. And he could barely see two inches in front of his face, but he didn't need perfect vision to see what he already knew. The tire hadn't been merely punctured; it had blown completely out._

_It was then that Eric got his next bright idea. He hadn't been able to impress Calleigh with his uncanny wit or his amazing sense of direction, but perhaps he could do the next best thing. Maybe Calleigh would be impressed by a show of manliness? And what was manlier than braving the fiercest elements to repair a lady's chariot?_

_Eric could do that, despite the fact that he couldn't see a thing. So with his mind made up and a smile on his face, Eric trudged his way to the back of the Hummer._

_But when he got there, Eric discovered the flaw in his perfect plan. There was no spare tire. "Perfect," Eric mumbled bitterly, slapping the back of the Hummer. He'd gotten out in the rain; he'd gotten soaked for nothing. Angrily he turned to make his way back to the driver's side, but in his bitterness he neglected to watch his step. His eyes widened as he slipped in the mud; he lost his footing and was unable to get it back. With a yelp, Eric crashed to the ground, hitting his shoulder against the Hummer in the process._

_For a moment, he lay there. Dazed, in pain, feeling like a drowned rat…this day couldn't get any worse._

_The rain seemed to cease for a moment, but as Eric opened his eyes, he realized it was only because Calleigh was standing over him, concern etched visibly on her face. "Eric?"_

_With a sigh, Eric pulled himself to a sitting position, embarrassed. "There's no spare tire," he muttered._

_Calleigh stooped next to him, her face closer to his than it had ever been. "But are you okay?" she asked sincerely, searching his eyes._

_"Yeah, I'm fine," Eric sighed, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder. "Except for my ego."_

_Calleigh giggled, rising to her feet. "Here, let me help you up," she said, extending a hand._

_Eric smiled and accepted her outstretched hand, attempting to pull himself to his feet. But the ground beneath him was too slippery. As soon as he attempted to stand, his feet slipped out from under him again, though this time his body wasn't the only one to fall._

_Not expecting Eric to lose his balance, Calleigh yelped as her body was pulled forward, as Eric brought her down with him. She braced herself, and merely a second later Calleigh found herself lying right on top of Eric._

_"Sorry," they apologized simultaneously. Calleigh giggled, her cheeks tinting slightly._

_Eric had never seen anything more adorable. Impulsively he reached up, brushing the soaked tendrils of hair out of her face. "I'm sorry I pulled you down," he said with a smirk._

_Calleigh grinned. "At least you didn't throw me to the ground."_

_"What can I say?" Eric teased, a big grin on his face. "Chivalry; that's my middle name."_

_Calleigh dissolved into giggles, and Eric found himself enthralled by the sound. Maybe he had failed every time he'd tried to impress her, but he could certainly make her laugh. And if it always sounded as sweet as this, Eric would be absolutely okay with that._

_All too soon, Calleigh shifted, pulling herself off of him and to her feet. "I'd offer to help again, but I'd rather not spend the rest of the day on the ground," she said, her eyes sparkling._

_Eric chuckled, though once both of them were safely on their feet, he couldn't help but scowl. "Now we're both soaked and muddy," he complained._

_"So? I thought you were a diver," Calleigh smirked. "What happened to 'a little water won't kill me'?"_

_Eric narrowed his eyes. "Clever, Cal."_

_The sparkle in Calleigh's eyes only seemed to grow brighter. "I try," she replied playfully. She crossed her arms, shivering slightly in the rain. "Now, are we done standing in the rain? Because if we are, there are some blankets in the backseat," she said, gesturing to the Hummer._

_Warmth sounded good to Eric's waterlogged, freezing brain, and so he followed Calleigh's lead, climbing into the backseat with her._

_"So I called Horatio," Calleigh said, once they were both out of the rain and beginning to warm up again. "He said he'd have Tyler run the GPS location, and then he'd come find us once this storm moves out."_

_"GPS?" Eric asked. "How'd he know to run that?"_

_Calleigh smiled sweetly. "Because I might've told him that you'd gotten us lost."_

_Eric paled. He was merely embarrassed that Calleigh had seen him get lost, but for his supervisor to know? That could potentially get a new guy fired. "You what?"_

_"It's okay, Eric!" Calleigh laughed. "He actually laughed; said it was no big deal." She shrugged. "Besides, we'd need somebody anyway, since there's no spare tire."_

_Eric's eyes narrowed. "You know, this is my Hummer. So I bet Speedle took the tire, just because he thought it'd be funny."_

_Calleigh grinned. "Now why would sweet Tim do something like that?"_

_"Okay, now I know he took it," Eric grumbled, eliciting another giggle from Calleigh. Once more he was mesmerized by the sound, and before he knew it, Eric found himself chuckling as well. Before he could stop it, it became a full blown laugh. He had to admit, the situation was rather ridiculous. Here they were, in the back of the Hummer on some deserted gravel road, soaking wet, muddy, and in Eric's case, with a bruised shoulder._

_It was only supposed to be a routine crime scene - a simple breaking-and-entering. Apparently, simple had taken on a whole new meaning._

_But it was a new meaning that Eric could get used to. His plan to get them in and out of the crime scene in just a couple hours had backfired, turning into spending six hours wrapped in a blanket with Calleigh. He wasn't sure when they had fallen asleep, but it was dark outside when the glare of headlights roused him from his nap._

_In that moment, Eric almost hated to wake Calleigh. She looked so peaceful, so calm as she dreamt. But Eric also didn't want to wake her for his own benefit as well - she had fallen asleep with her head atop his shoulder, and he couldn't help but want to enjoy having her so close to him. After all, he knew it might never happen again._

_**..**  
_

It was the first memory he had with Calleigh where Eric was just able to be himself with her. All the times before, he'd been like a lowly freshman kid with a crush on the head cheerleader. He knew exactly how he must've acted around her, because Eric had watched Ryan act the same way around her for his first few months at the lab. Always trying to impress her, always being happy to do more than she asked, following her around like an adoring puppy…it was just like watching himself.

Eric was so glad he'd grown out of that crush before he'd done something truly laughable.

But at least then, he would've been able to look back and laugh. Then, it had been silly. But now…this was so different than that. He'd gone from a simple crush to…he wasn't even sure how to describe this. Deep affection? Adoration? Infatuation? Honest to goodness love?

Eric just didn't know. He just knew that it hurt a whole lot more to see her happy with somebody else than it had all those years ago.

Staring blankly into space, Eric nibbled at his sandwich. He was hungry, but at the same time, he wasn't. He just didn't feel like expending the effort. He didn't even look up as the break room door opened; he didn't even notice when his visitor dropped into a seat across from him. She had to call his name three times before finally he snapped out of his daze. Part of him wished it was Calleigh, but the rest of him was relieved when his eyes finally registered Natalia sitting in front of him. "Hey," he greeted.

"Welcome back." Natalia grinned. "How was space?"

Eric blinked, confused. "What?"

"You looked like you were a million miles away there," Natalia explained with a shrug.

"Oh. Yeah. I was just thinking, that's all." He concentrated extra hard on his sandwich, trying to ignore the knowing glance Natalia threw his way.

Luckily, she didn't push it. Not for the moment, anyway. "What're you eating?" she asked, her eyes on his sandwich.

Eric grinned. "Peanut butter."

Natalia smirked. "Ah. Peanut butter. Sexy. Certainly not a third grader's lunch."

"Hey, it's the only thing in here that looked edible." Eric replied defensively. "Unless I stole Cooper's lunch, but the last time I did that…well, that was a nasty surprise," he ended, giving a theatrical shudder.

"Ah, well, that's what you get for stealing his lunch," Natalia replied sagely.

Eric scoffed. "Like he was going to eat it."

Natalia pursed her lips. "You know, that actually might've been the entire point of him bringing lunch. Why didn't you just go out and get something?"

Eric gave a halfhearted shrug. "Didn't feel like it."

"What's the matter?" Natalia asked, concern in her voice.

"It's nothing. I really just didn't feel like fighting the lunchtime traffic today, that's all," Eric lied.

"Oh, okay," Natalia said, and Eric cringed inwardly. He knew by her tone that she knew something was bothering him. But he nearly choked on a bite of his sandwich when she hit the nail on the head. "So what's bothering you…it doesn't begin with a C and rhyme with alley?"

Eric gave what he hoped was a confused stare. "What, Calleigh? Why would she be bothering me?"

Natalia shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me what's going on between you two?" she suggested, grinning slightly. "You know, for real this time?"

Inwardly Eric groaned. He really did not want to go there, especially not with Natalia. "I don't think there's anything going on," he replied, watching her quizzically.

Natalia rolled her eyes. "Not good enough, Eric."

Eric gave a nervous chuckle. "Natalia, there's nothing going on," he repeated, a little more firmly. He watched Natalia carefully, trying hard to ignore the pain that the truth of that statement caused him. Was there anything going on? No.

Did he want there to be something? Absolutely. And he'd thought Calleigh had wanted it too; that was probably what hurt the most. He felt led on, and then he felt let down.

But what could he do? Calleigh had made her decision. Calleigh wanted Jake.

Despite the fact that his answer was mostly true, it still wasn't enough for Natalia. "Come on, Eric. I saw you."

Now Eric was really confused. "You saw us?"

"Mm-hmm." Natalia gave a conspiratorial grin. "I was on my way out to lunch, and I was going to stop by ballistics to see if Calleigh wanted to grab something with me. But it seemed she already had her hands full."

It clicked. Suddenly he realized exactly what Natalia must've seen. "Oh," Eric said, nodding. "It was nothing, Natalia. We were just talking."

"Now see, I might believe you," Natalia said, tilting her head thoughtfully, her teasing grin growing ever wider. "But talking doesn't require your hands to be lovingly caressing her face as you gaze intently into her eyes." Her statement was punctuated by the fake, dreamy look that came over her face.

Eric snorted. "Somebody's been reading too many romance novels."

Natalia laughed. "Hey, they're fun! It's nice to come home to a nice, hot bubble bath, a couple glasses of wine, and a juicy romance novel." She smiled. "What can I say; it's my escape."

Shaking his head, Eric gave a chuckle. "Marisol used to read those. Those things are nothing but trashy."

Natalia pretended to be offended. "I call them sensual."

"Sensual. Right."

With a giggle, Natalia leaned forward, fixing Eric with a stern gaze. "Why are we talking about me and what I like to read? I thought this conversation was about you and Calleigh."

"Yeah. You thought," Eric smirked. "Only problem there is that there's nothing to talk about."

"Come on, Eric," Natalia pouted. "I saw you!"

"Yeah, you saw me looking at the cut on her face from her wreck last night. I was worried, because it looked really bad to me. You saw me being a concerned _friend._" Eric pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I was just concerned, because I know how she is with stuff like that."

Natalia wasn't about to let him off the hook yet. She knew what she'd seen, and it had looked like more than that. "Is that all it was?" She grinned. "You know, I can keep a secret. You can tell me. Did something happen between her and Jake, and you just happened to be there to pick up the pieces? Did she come to you for advice on how to tell Jake something? Or," Natalia's eyes darkened playfully, and she lowered her voice, "are you two having a secret affair?"

"God, you're relentless," Eric huffed, standing from the table. "No, no, and absolutely not," he answered with a roll of his eyes, tossing his paper plate into the garbage.

To his dismay, Natalia laughed. "You say that like it's the most ridiculous thing ever."

"Isn't it?"

"Oh, come on, Eric," Natalia said, shaking her head. "It's common knowledge that you like her."

Eric lifted an eyebrow, trying not to give anything away - be that conceding to her truth, or showing his worry that his feelings weren't as covert as he had hoped. "Common knowledge?"

"Well, it's common knowledge to me."

"Which makes it nothing more than gossip," Eric smirked.

Natalia threw up her hands in surrender. "Fine then," she relented, smiling nonetheless. "I'll just get my answers some other way."

"Oh really? And how's that?" Eric asked, amused.

"With these babies right here," Natalia smirked, pointing to her eyes. "They see everything."

Eric snorted. "Yeah, good luck with seeing the invisible."

"Good luck with trying to hide it from me," Natalia shot back, and Eric couldn't help but grin. He knew she was only teasing him. He'd certainly been through a rough patch with her in the past; there were several mistakes that he'd made, but in the end, Natalia had become a good friend to him. He felt like there was at least one person still on his side.

"Well," Natalia spoke again, pulling Eric once more from his thoughts, "since you won't talk to me, I guess I should get back to work. I'll see you later." Eric shot her a halfhearted glare, but she only laughed as she walked back out of the room, taking the welcome distraction with her.

And once more, Eric was left alone with his thoughts and memories. Thoughts of what could possibly be; memories of what had once been, and what he'd since lost. He'd given up a silly crush to find the best friend he'd ever had, and then with a few mixed signals from her, Eric had let himself fall for her. He'd fallen, and in doing so he'd let go of that friendship which he'd so cherished. He'd let that go, under the hope that he would find something more.

One day, he would just have to learn that _something more_ had never been promised to him.

Either that, or he'd just have to get used to the neverending pain caused by his ever-shattering heart.


	14. A Past Revealed

_**Chapter Fourteen**_  
**_A Past Revealed_  
- **

It was a conversation for which Calleigh had spent the entire day preparing. She had thought simply making the decision would be the hard part, but that turned out to be relatively easy. That decision had been made during the drive into work.

There was just something in Jake's voice that had torn at her that morning. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, walking away from him. But at the time, getting away was exactly what she needed to do. She needed time; space. And having both of those things had helped her make her decision.

Jake deserved to know. He'd known her for more than a decade, and yet he still knew next to nothing about her childhood. What did that say about their relationship if Calleigh couldn't tell him?

Calleigh couldn't quite fathom why she wanted to tell him everything, after all, she'd spent so many years trying to forget it herself. If it accomplished nothing else, this conversation would leave Calleigh with so many reopened wounds, so much revisited pain. But if it did accomplish something more, what would that be? Would this prove her trust in Jake? Would it prove his commitment to her? Or it would it only prove to both of them that Calleigh was just as broken now as she was at thirteen?

Was this conversation worth it?

Before she'd really had the chance to get to that question, Calleigh was home. The sky was darkening overhead as the sun made its downward plunge in the western sky. But it was beauty that Calleigh was far too anxious to take in. Briefly she thought about getting back in Jake's car and going for a drive. She knew that would calm her nerves, had the events of the previous night not taken place. But they had taken place, and Calleigh had been startled enough earlier this evening as she'd sat at an intersection, her mind on this very conversation. A horn had sounded from behind her, nearly putting Calleigh through the roof. She hated feeling so jumpy, and even more, she hated not having control over it.

So running was out of the question. All she could do was what she needed to do - face her past, face Jake. Not talking to him was what had started this mess in the first place, and to keep that up would only make it worse.

Quietly Calleigh stepped inside, the calm and quiet of her condo hitting her immediately. It was almost reassuring; as though the feeling of just being home was enough to give her the courage to go through with this. She set her things down on the counter and closed her eyes, giving herself a moment. She hadn't quite figured out a way to begin this, and the only way that seemed to make sense was not to sugarcoat it; to jump straight in.

Preparing herself a little more, Calleigh followed the soft light that illuminated the hallway, knowing the glow was coming from her bedroom, more specifically, the lamp at her bedside table. With every step her heartbeat came a little faster, but Calleigh refused to give in and turn back. She needed to do this, for herself, for _them._

As she reached the end of the hallway, Calleigh found comfort once more. Standing just outside her bedroom door, she could see inside clearly. Comfortably lounging on her bed was Jake, his face obscured by today's paper - the sports section, which Calleigh already knew without even asking. She couldn't explain it, but she was strangely comforted by the sight. Maybe the fact that he still felt at home enough to relax on her bed instead of stiffly sitting at the kitchen counter meant that he wasn't angry with her. Maybe this was still important to him. Calleigh didn't know what it was, but she was glad for it nonetheless.

For a moment, she thought about announcing her presence with a playful jibe about the Saints, just for old time's sake, but decided against it, afraid that even that little diversion would tempt her not to go into her story. The best thing to do was just to jump right into it. She might falter along the way, but at least she would've started.

She took a deep, steadying breath, knowing it was truly now or never. "When I was twelve, my mama left home."

Surprised, Jake looked up from his paper, the image before him immediately tugging at his heart. Calleigh stood apprehensively in the doorway, looking just as ready to come in as run away again. Her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip, and Jake immediately tossed the paper aside, forgetting all about the scores he was checking up on. Without a word, he patted the spot next to him on the bed. Calleigh hesitated, just as he'd expected her to, but after a moment, she obliged.

Jake watched her ever closely as she crawled onto the bed with him. Her movements were stiff, deliberate, and Jake knew she was absolutely uncomfortable. There was none of her usual playfulness in her body language; none of her usual sparkle in her eyes. Rather stiffly she curled up next to him, and Jake had to forcefully refrain from wrapping an arm around her, at least until she touched him first. He knew it had taken a lot for her to come this far, and the last thing he wanted right now was to scare her away again. He knew that she needed him to let her set the pace. And he knew she would.

The moments crawled by so slowly; the silence rang so loudly in Jake's ears. It was killing him to just sit there, forced to wait, unable to reach out to her. He could feel that she was hurting, and that tore at his heart enough. But to feel her hurting, and have to wait for her to reach out to him was even worse.

But just as he'd known it would, the wait paid off, after several long, silent moments. Calleigh let out a breath, and her fingers brushed ever lightly over his arm. It was the lightest of touches, but Jake would've felt it through ten layers of clothing. It was her silent way of giving in, and once she gave him that okay, it was less than a second before his arm was around her, holding her as closely as she would allow him to.

Jake couldn't help the elation that bubbled within him when Calleigh lay her head on his shoulder. He wasn't sure what it meant yet - it could mean she trusted him, it could mean she wanted him to comfort her, anything - but that didn't matter to him right now. He'd figure it out in time. At this point, Jake wouldn't push her; he knew he would be content to hold her like this for the rest of the night, knowing that eventually Calleigh would open up to him. She had taken the first step, after all. And she hated leaving anything unfinished. Twisting his neck slightly, Jake pressed a single, gentle kiss into her hair, breathing her in, feeling her slowly relax against him. "I always thought it was my fault," Calleigh murmured.

"Why?" Jake asked quietly.

Calleigh shrugged. "Because my daddy said so." She sighed. "He was drunk, but that didn't make a difference to my twelve year old mind. Everything he said was automatically true; that's just the way it always was." Calleigh paused, taking another deep breath. This was even harder than she'd imagined. She was so grateful for Jake's strong arms around her. Without that, she knew she wouldn't have the courage to relive all this. As if on cue, Jake tightened his hold on her, and Calleigh ducked her head, for a brief moment smiling into his shoulder. The smile disappeared as soon as she continued, though. "Whenever he said it was my fault that my brothers got out of hand; whenever he said it was my fault that Mama didn't have supper cooked and ready when he got home; whenever he said it was my fault that Mama left…I always believed him." Calleigh gave a wry laugh, causing Jake to wince. "I was a wreck by the time I got to college."

"You weren't a wreck," Jake murmured, his heart breaking for her.

Calleigh shook her head. "We met at the academy, Jake. That was after I'd had four years to pull my life together; four years to undo my past. After eighteen years of that hell, it was a wonder that I could even do anything, especially after watching my two youngest brothers go so far downhill after getting out of there."

Jake wasn't sure what he could say to that, if anything, so he simply turned his head again, pressing another kiss to her hair.

A ghost of a smile flitted over Calleigh's lips as she felt the affection in that one, simple gesture. But it was gone in a flash as she continued on. "I thought nothing could be worse than the first twelve years of my life. Daddy was always drunk at night, and Mama was always either just as drunk as him, or she would lock herself in the bedroom and just make Daddy all that much madder."

"Was he abusive?" Jake asked, already sure he knew the answer, but dreading it all the same.

"No more so than my Mama," Calleigh replied. "She could give it as good as him; when they really got going, my brothers and I had a hard time figuring out just who was going to win that particular battle. But Mama…she only did what she had to do to defend herself. She never attacked…us."

Jake felt his blood run cold. "Us…as in you and your brothers?"

Calleigh nodded slowly. "She never touched us. She even kept Daddy from getting to us. The worst we had to deal with during those first twelve years was the endless nights of screaming, slamming doors, breaking windows…that kind of thing. But then, she'd had enough, and she simply walked out shortly after my twelfth birthday. I guess she thought it was the best thing to do, but I always resented her after that. She got away from everything, but everything just got…redirected."

"To you and your brothers?" Jake asked again, feeling how deeply retelling all this was affecting her. He wished he could do more for her, but all he could do at the moment was listen.

"Mostly just to me," Calleigh replied, shuddering. "My brothers could run faster; they could hide better. And unlike me, they weren't deluded into thinking that Daddy would change. They didn't believe any of the promises he gave by day. I did. And I always stuck around, thinking that maybe this time would be different. That maybe I could change things." Calleigh shook her head, her eyes scrunched tightly. "How stupid could I be?"

"Not stupid, sweetheart," Jake said softly, stroking her back. "There's just something in you that wants to see the best in everybody, especially if it's somebody you care about. It's part of what makes you who you are."

"A flaw, in other words," Calleigh rephrased negatively.

"Not a flaw, baby. If you didn't have that, you never would've given me a second chance."

Despite her pain at reliving all of this, Calleigh managed a small smirk. "Are you sure that just wasn't because you were so damn persistent?"

Jake chuckled. "Well, I guess that could've had a little to do with it." He grinned. "What can I say; I go for what I want."

Calleigh giggled softly, feeling much of her apprehension slowly melt away. Jake's soothing hand on her back was doing wonders to help her relax against him. It didn't make digging up her past any easier, but Calleigh honestly didn't think there was anything that could do that. Her smile faded, serious once more. "You remember the scars on my lower back?" she asked quietly, feeling Jake shift slightly. "You asked about them years ago, and I told you I'd gotten them in an accident when I was a kid. That…that wasn't exactly true."

"I thought not," Jake admitted quietly. "But I didn't want to push."

Calleigh gave a soft sigh. "Daddy was more drunk than he'd ever been and more angry than he'd ever been, the night my Mama left…"

"He did that to you?" Jake whispered, feeling sick. He'd been guilty of hurting her in the past, yes, but Jake couldn't fathom how anybody could ever lay a hand on the woman in his arms.

Calleigh gave a shaky nod. "And it only got worse as I got older," she murmured. "When I was sixteen, I came home after curfew, by five minutes. Only five minutes, but you would've thought it was more like five hours. The house was quiet, dark, and I thought I'd made it home without being caught. But no, Daddy was waiting just around the corner for me." Calleigh gave a shudder, closing her eyes as the memories flooded her vision. Unconsciously she rubbed her left wrist. "He broke my wrist that night," she murmured. "And he probably would've broken a lot more if Evan hadn't stepped in and saved me. He got me out of there, went with me to the ER, and then we ended up spending the next couple of nights at one of his friend's places."

It was here that her resolve finally began to crumble. The past twenty-four hours had taken a huge emotional toll on Calleigh; she felt close to her breaking point. But, she persevered. "He always kept telling me, 'don't you dare cry over what you deserve,'" Calleigh mumbled, feeling her eyes burn as she felt the memory so viscerally. It hit her all at once; until now, she'd been able to hold it together. But as soon as she'd faltered the tiniest bit, that was it. She took several long, deep breaths, trying to fend off the threatening storm. But that just wasn't enough. Involuntarily she sniffled and at that point, she tried to pull away from Jake. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Tenderly Jake reached out, tilting her chin up. His heart broke for her all over again as a single tear slipped its way past her closed eyelids. "You didn't deserve any of that," he said, gently stroking her cheek, catching the lone tear with his thumb.

Calleigh gave a small smile as she leaned into his touch. "I wish I'd known that back then."

"And if only you knew just how many times I've said those exact words," Jake replied, giving a knowing smile. They were words that had haunted him day and night throughout many of the past several years. If he'd known what his undercover life was doing to Calleigh…if he'd known that he would end up having to choose between that life and Calleigh…if he'd known at the time that, despite his reasons being right, he was making the wrong choice - if he'd known all that, then who knew where he would be today?

"I've said it more than a few times myself," Calleigh sighed, moving to lay on her back on the bed. In turn, Jake shifted onto his side beside her, propping himself up with his elbow so he could look down into her eyes. "You know, I've never told anybody all of this before," Calleigh admitted, once their eyes had met. "You're the only one." She let out a breath, steadying herself long enough for one more confession. "I need you to know this, Jake. I didn't run to Eric yesterday."

Jake nodded. After hearing her side of the story, he really didn't believe that anymore anyway. " Cal, I know -"

"Jake…please," Calleigh interrupted. She didn't know what it was, but this was really important for him to know. "I didn't run to Eric. I - I panicked yesterday. I would've been fine had I not seen that little girl. And being in that room just suddenly was too much. I had to get out of there; I had to see her again, so I could know that she was okay. That her damaged childhood was over before it really got the chance to get started. I didn't run from you; I just needed to get out of that room. It felt like it was closing in on me, and I couldn't breathe."

She shuddered, remembering so clearly how that loss of control had felt. She had lost complete control of her mind, of her imagination; but what had affected her the most was losing control of her physical reaction. Calleigh knew she wasn't a little girl anymore; she knew that she never went home to her childhood home anymore. But still her breathing had become irregular; her heartbeat had quickened, and she'd been unable to think logically. That had scared her more than anything.

Jake moved closer to her, pulling her out of her memories as he gently stroked a knuckle over her cheek. "You amaze me, you know that?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Calleigh gazed deep into his intense dark eyes. "What?" she asked, not quite understanding.

"That somebody like you could come out of a situation like that…" Jake clarified just a little more, gazing down at her, the adoration plain in his eyes.

Calleigh felt a grin tug at her lips, and she didn't fight it. She felt herself relax completely; she'd made it through to the other side of this dreaded conversation, and Jake wasn't bolting for the door, or any other number of things she'd feared he might do. He was still here with her, his face hovering just mere inches away from hers. "Somebody like me?" she asked, her tone light.

Jake gave a slight chuckle. Instead of answering verbally, he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly. Calleigh immediately lifted a hand, placing it at his cheek, feeling his stubble beneath her fingertips. Before she got the chance to deepen the kiss, Jake pulled away, though he didn't go far.

"You are a strong, amazing, incredible, beautiful woman," Jake murmured, punctuating each adjective with a kiss. "Damn sexy, too," he added, relishing in the sound of Calleigh's sheepish giggle. Softly he stroked her hair, loving the softness beneath his fingers. "I just find it amazing that somebody so perfect could come out of something so terrible," he said quietly, pressing another quick kiss to her lips.

"I'm not perfect," Calleigh protested, smiling despite herself.

Jake grinned. "Yeah, you are." He watched in awe as Calleigh's cheeks tinted, though he didn't get to watch her for long. Taking matters into her own hands, Calleigh reached around the back of Jake's neck and pulled him down to her, bringing their lips together once more.

Of course, Jake was all too happy to oblige. He kissed her deeply, finding himself once more overwhelmed by her unique taste. She was utterly intoxicating, to say the least. How he had ever made it all those years without her was beyond him.

When she had walked away from him that morning, the pain, the hopelessness that had washed over Jake was unreal. Watching her walk away again hurt more than anything. It would've been easier if she'd yelled at him; if she'd argued with him. But she just wouldn't talk to him; she'd turned and walked away from him.

The memories it had triggered were horrible. Losing her the first time had been bad enough, but to lose her again? Jake honestly didn't think he could live through that. Calleigh had become such an integral part of who he was.

It frustrated him slightly, but Jake continued to allow her to set the pace. He didn't want to push her; he knew she needed the control right now. But that was alright with him; it gave him the time to really treasure the moment. He kissed her slowly, savoring the feel of her soft lips against his; enjoying the way her hands felt on his shoulders, over his back, sliding under his shirt and over his chest.

Desperate for oxygen, Jake broke the kiss, smirking slightly at Calleigh's whimper of protest. She wanted Jake's lips back on hers, and while that elated Jake, he was determined to draw this out. He wanted so badly to make her forget everything, but he knew he couldn't make that happen. Jake would be happy just to make her feel as wonderful as he knew she was. Lazily he trailed soft kisses along her jawline, down her neck, over her collarbone. Calleigh squirmed beneath him, a giggle escaping her lips as Jake nuzzled her neck, his stubble tickling her oversensitive skin. "Jake…" she mumbled breathlessly, threading her fingers through his dark locks.

"Hmm?" Jake murmured, slowly making his way to her sweet spot, just below her ear. Calleigh knew exactly where he was headed, and her body tensed beneath his, preparing for the coming onslaught of sensation. It was the one spot that only Jake knew about, and he knew exactly what to do to have her melting right in his arms.

Jake gave a low chuckle, sending shivers racing down Calleigh's spine. "Relax, beautiful," he whispered huskily, before finally lowering his lips to that one spot. Calleigh whimpered immediately, her fingers tightening in his hair. He kissed and nipped at that spot until the sensation became way too much for Calleigh to handle. Tugging gently at his hair, Calleigh finally managed to direct his lips back to hers.

She kissed him feverishly as her hands wandered over his back, finding the bottom of his shirt. Still shaking slightly from his exquisite assault on her senses, Calleigh tugged at his shirt, pulling it up and over Jake's head, with a little help from him. Her hands immediately went to his muscular chest, and she felt him ripple beneath her touch as he drew in a sharp breath. Calleigh smirked, but it quickly became a small gasp as she felt Jake's fingers slip beneath the hem of her own top. All too happily she helped him pull it over her head, the look of want in his eyes making her shiver.

"God, you're beautiful," Jake murmured, causing Calleigh to blush once more. She shivered again as she felt his hands on her stomach, slowly moving upward. She gave a quiet moan as she pulled him back in for another kiss, though it was a kiss that was short-lived as Jake's hands pressed over a particularly sensitive spot. Calleigh broke the kiss with a whimper, her body tensing beneath him. Worried, Jake pulled back immediately, gazing down at her with concern in his eyes. "Cal?"

Her eyes closed, Calleigh took a moment to catch her breath. The burst of stinging pain that had shot through her had stunned her; pain had been the last thing she'd expected. "I'm fine," she whispered, wincing as she drew in a breath. "I'm just bruised…sore from the wreck…"

Jake couldn't help the surge of guilt that coursed through his body. How had he not seen that before? "I'm sorry," he said quietly, gently caressing the visible bruise at her side.

"Stop apologizing," Calleigh demanded quietly. "It's not your fault."

Gently he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Calleigh. Can we agree once and for all that none of this is anybody's fault? You won't let me take the blame, but it kills me to see you blame yourself," he said quietly. "You agreed with me this morning; we both said and did things last night that we didn't mean. I want to put that behind us. No more apologies, okay?"

Calleigh lost herself in his dark eyes; the sincerity, devotion, and something else Calleigh couldn't quite name all taking her breath away, all over again. Lifting her head slightly, she pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips. "No more apologies," she agreed quietly, a smile touching her own lips as Jake smiled down at her. Slowly she let her hands loop around his neck again, bringing him in for another kiss.

He wanted to so badly, but Jake refused to lose himself in her, at least not yet. He broke the kiss, despite Calleigh's protests. He was still ever-mindful of the bruise at her side, and whether there were any more that he would accidentally brush. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. "We don't have to do this, Cal," he said caringly. "If you're hurt -"

"No," Calleigh cut him off, placing a finger to his lips. She breathed deeply. "I want…I need you."

"Are you sure?" Tenderly he stroked her cheek with his thumb, losing himself in her eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."

Calleigh gave a small smile, her own fingers playing along Jake's cheek. He hadn't hurt her before, when she had let her most vulnerable side show, and now it was the last thing she was worried about. With his dark eyes gazing down at her like that, Calleigh couldn't help but trust him completely. Her fingers slowly slipped into his dark hair, threading their way through the strands. Once more, she lifted her head, softly pressing her lips to his. Before giving herself completely over to the kiss, she murmured two quiet words against his lips.

"You won't."

* * *


	15. Awakening

**Chapter Fifteen**  
**Awakening  
- **

_Apart from those piercing dark eyes, all Calleigh could see was a speedy blur of six-year-old, her long blonde hair flying wildly behind her as she ran into the house. The swing from which Hailey had leapt hadn't even had time to stop swinging yet. Calleigh couldn't help but be amused at her daughter's endless supply of energy. Sure, Calleigh herself could be high-strung, but she could feel herself growing exhausted just from just watching Hailey run around everywhere. But she wouldn't change a thing; no, Calleigh loved every last minute of it._

_With a grin, Calleigh followed Hailey inside. She heard the telltale thumping from above; Hailey was running up the stairs, presumably to get the new plush puppy that she had begged Calleigh for while they were out shopping earlier that morning. "It looks like Delilah!" she had squealed happily, bouncing from one foot to the other._

_Trying to be a good mother, Calleigh had tried to say no. But as soon as Hailey had begun to pout, Calleigh caved. She would swear that pout came from Hailey's father, but he would argue it came from Calleigh. But that didn't matter, since neither one of them wanted to say no to her, much like they couldn't say no to each other._

_Her mind drifted to when they had first gotten Delilah. Hailey had picked her out, name and everything. Calleigh could see that afternoon so viscerally in her mind; she could see her daughter playing with the tiny puppy on the living room floor, just feet from where she herself sat, also on the floor. Laying back against his chest, Calleigh was comfortably nestled in her husband's arms as he sat behind her, his back to the couch. As she lay her head back against his shoulder, Calleigh could feel his breath just lightly tickle her skin, sending a shiver through her body. It was the perfect afternoon; just her and her family. It was these afternoons that she lived for._

_Hailey nibbled at her bottom lip, concentrating deeply. Calleigh couldn't help but grin as she watched; it was almost as though her daughter were studying DNA results or fingerprint analyses, or something else complex. It was amusing to watch; Calleigh's husband had often told her that their daughter had gotten her "concentration face" from her. And indeed she had; the little girl was concentrating deeply, searching for the perfect name for the newest member of their family._

_After a few more moments, Hailey's face brightened, and Calleigh knew she'd found the answer. "Delilah," she said confidently, a smile stretching from ear to ear._

_Calleigh smirked; not at the name, though. Personally, she thought it was adorable. No, she'd smirked at the way her husband had tensed up. As Calleigh had expected, her husband had cringed slightly when Hailey suggested the name._

_"Delilah?" he asked in slight disbelief, his voice ticking Calleigh's ear. "That's a girly name."_

_Calleigh bit her lip, almost afraid that Hailey would take his words personally. But Calleigh needn't have worried; Hailey was a perfect copy of herself. She was confident, headstrong, and she knew what she wanted. She knew how to get what she wanted. To Calleigh's relief, Hailey only laughed._

_"But Daddy, she is a girl!" she had protested matter-of-factly, causing another smirk to form on her mother's lips. Calleigh knew exactly what her husband's issue was; she knew exactly the kind of dog he'd had while growing up, and it was the complete opposite from the tiny, fluffy Yorkshire terrier currently chasing her tail on the floor in front of them. He'd agreed quickly when Hailey had first expressed wanting a dog (and then together they'd conspired against Calleigh until she caved as well), but Calleigh knew this wasn't exactly what he had envisioned. He'd wanted a manly dog, and when Hailey had picked out this little ball of fluff, Calleigh had to laugh._

_She knew without glancing behind her that her husband was frowning at her. With a grin, Calleigh playfully elbowed him. "Oh, come on," she smirked, trailing her fingers across his arms that held her tightly. "I think it's cute."_

_"You would."_

_"Mm-hmm." Calleigh grinned. "And deep down, you know you think it's cute too. Don't you even deny it," she added, knowing he was going to protest._

_"But -"_

_"Nuh-uh," Calleigh teased. "Besides, don't you remember how excited you were when we named Hailey? What if I'd said no to your suggestions?"_

_"That would've never happened. You can't say no to me."_

_"And you can't say no to Hailey." As if on cue, Hailey gave her best pouty face, and Calleigh could practically feel her husband's argument elude him. She felt him shake his head as he let out a breath._

_"Well, I guess she does look like a Delilah…" he'd relented, eliciting a giggle from Calleigh._

_Mere steps away, with her gorgeous, dark brown eyes sparkling, Hailey gave a triumphant cheer, startling the tiny puppy in her arms. "Your name is Delilah," she said happily, giggling as Delilah gave a few soft yelps in response._

_The sound of light thumping overhead brought Calleigh out of her memories, and a lazy smile crossed over her lips as she let out a happy sigh. She had caught herself doing that a lot in the past several years; smiling for no reason at all. Well, to other people it seemed like no reason at all. As far as Calleigh was concerned, she had every reason in the world to smile._

_Her eyes drifted toward the front of the house, toward the front door. Any moment now, her husband would be walking through that door. It still gave her chills, just as prominently as it had the first time. Her husband._

_There were few things in life that felt better than the way he made her feel as his eyes locked with hers at the end of a long day. He looked at her in a way that, no matter how she felt or what she had on, always made her feel beautiful, wanted. Calleigh had never met anybody who'd made her feel that loved, especially with just a single glance. Had anybody ever tried to tell Calleigh at thirteen, at twenty, even at twenty-five that one day she would find this kind of happiness, this kind of love; had anybody tried to tell her that she would have such an amazing husband and a beautiful daughter…Calleigh would've told them right then and there just how crazy they were. It was impossible, she'd always thought. That stuff was for fairy tales; she'd never believed that this kind of happiness existed._

_But it did. It really did. Calleigh knew that for a fact now, because it was her life. She didn't know what she'd ever done to deserve this kind of happiness, but it was something she was thankful for every single day._

_Calleigh's smile faded slightly as the thumping overhead started anew, though this time it grew louder, faster. With a sigh, Calleigh shook her head. If she'd told Hailey once, she'd told her a thousand times…_

_Sure enough, merely a second later, Hailey came flying down the stairs, taking them two at a time. "Hailey," Calleigh warned, giving her daughter a stern look. She knew though, that at this point it wouldn't do any good. Hailey was just too excited, and Calleigh honestly couldn't blame her. She adored her father; she was every bit daddy's little girl. And Calleigh knew that he wouldn't be fazed that she had been running in the house again. In fact, he would be amused._

_But there was a difference between being excited, and being risky. Calleigh was so afraid that Hailey was going to hurt herself one day. Her energy and her courage were just too much. She was the kind of girl would run across a shaky bridge and then jump off at the end anyway, just for fun. To say she scared Calleigh to death would be an understatement._

_Her father, on the other hand, thought it was funny. Of course he did; that was where she had gotten it from. "She'll be fine, baby. A little excitement never hurt me," he would always say with a smirk._

_Still, it did not much to soothe Calleigh's nerves. "Hailey!" she called again, crossing her arms. She had to admit; it was hard to reprimand her daughter when Calleigh herself was just as excited. Hailey faltered slightly, as did the lively puppy at her feet. Calleigh nearly laughed; both of them wore nearly identical, sheepish expressions. Hoping she appeared at least somewhat serious, Calleigh lifted a questioning eyebrow. "What have I told you about running in the house?"_

_Hailey smiled sweetly. "Don't do it?"_

_"That's right." Calleigh paused, wondering just what was going through her daughter's head. "And what were you just doing?"_

_Hailey pursed her lips, obviously doing some quick thinking - another trait that had come from her father. "Walking fast?"_

_Calleigh nearly laughed, but managed to hold it in. "Nice try, sweetie. Now, no more running, okay?"_

_"But Mommy…" Hailey whined, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. "Daddy's home!"_

_"I know that," Calleigh replied, smiling. "But if you run, you'll just have to stand still and wait longer to see him. And you don't like waiting, do you?"_

_"No…"_

_Calleigh chuckled. "Then you don't need to run, okay?"_

_"Okay."_

_But any reasoning that had gotten through to Hailey all left her mind as her little ears picked up on the sound of a key in the door. Delilah's fluffy ears perked up, and Calleigh knew that Hailey's would've, if they could. Once more, Hailey's dark eyes sparkled with excitement, though laced with a playful, defiant glint. Calleigh saw the smirk begin at her daughter's lips, and, hands on her hips, tried to reprimand her one more time. "Hailey…"_

_To Hailey's credit, she started moving toward the front of the house at little more than a walk. But just as soon as she thought she was out of her mother's eyesight, Hailey took off again._

_"Hailey!" Calleigh called after her, shaking her head in amused disbelief. "Hailey Jade!"_

**..**

Jake had always known Calleigh to be an early riser. But after years of undercover life in which he lived on two, maybe three hours of sleep, Jake could say that he had Calleigh beat in that respect. He awoke before Calleigh nearly every morning, sometimes mere moments before, sometimes an hour or two before. And if it was one of the unlucky days that Jake's shift started before Calleigh's did, then he would have to quietly sneak out of bed and unwillingly go through his morning routine in silence.

And that was a lose-lose situation. Those mornings, Jake resented the shower, his clothes for the day, even the coffeemaker in the kitchen that gave him the energy to make it through the day. He resented them all because they pulled him away from Calleigh. Those mornings, the last thing Jake ever wanted to do was leave Calleigh's side. And though she hadn't put it in those exact words, Calleigh had made it known that she didn't like waking without him.

But luckily, this was not one of those mornings.

This morning, as usual, Jake had awoken well before the alarm. The very first rays of sunlight were beginning to peek through the curtains, gracing the bedroom with just enough light so Jake could see Calleigh sleeping peacefully beside him. The rest of the room still lay cloaked in darkness.

Upon waking, Jake had deftly reached across Calleigh, switching off the alarm before it had a chance to disturb Calleigh's slumber. The first time he had done it, Calleigh had pretended to be displeased, though Jake could tell that she much preferred being woken by his lips rather than the alarm clock. And it wasn't like turning the alarm off would cause either of them to be late for work; there was no chance of Jake going back to sleep.

Really, go back to sleep, and miss the chance to watch his sleeping beauty? Not a chance.

Even in sleep, Calleigh managed to take his breath away. She was adorable, even while wrapped snugly in the blankets that she had stolen from Jake during the night. Curled up on her side, she had the covers pulled tightly up to her chin. Her face looked nothing less than content; peaceful. A few strands of blonde fell down over her face, twitching lightly each time she breathed out.

The temptation was just too strong. Jake couldn't stop himself from reaching out, gently brushing those stray strands away from her face. His fingertips lingered on the soft skin of her cheek, stroking gently. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, though aware that she couldn't hear him.

It was a much different light in which Jake saw Calleigh now. A lot of things had finally begun to make sense to him. Why she was always so cautious with her emotions; why she'd always shied away from any talk of the past. In the past he had always found it strange that he knew so little about her past, but now he understood. Jake wouldn't want to relive that either.

Jake didn't even want to relive his own past. For years it had followed him around, lurking just beneath the surface, and the moment he'd thought he'd finally escaped it, there it was again. Jake could understand wanting to push the past away, and for that, he felt terrible.

He understood, and yet, he had still pushed Calleigh that night in the car. He had taken offense when she wouldn't open up to him; he had accused her of wanting to go to somebody else when in fact, she hadn't wanted to talk to anybody anyway. Jake felt like he'd forced her to open up to him. Sure, he hadn't known, but that didn't do anything to lessen his feeling of guilt.

It had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to listen to. Jake couldn't imagine _ever_ laying a hand on the beautiful woman lying next to him; the very idea of it made him sick. Calleigh was beautiful; she was amazing; and in his eyes, perfect. How anybody could ever think that she wasn't…he couldn't imagine it.

His inner turmoil continued to build. Last night, Calleigh had trusted him with the darkest secrets she held. It had taken an amazing amount of courage for her to do so, and Jake was honestly in awe that she had trusted him enough to talk to him. But at the same time, that was the one thing that made him feel more uneasy. She had trusted him with the truth about her past, so why couldn't Jake do the same? Why couldn't he just tell her his own truth? Why couldn't he just tell her why he had done what he'd done all those years ago; why it had come back to haunt him now? Maybe it was denial on his part. It was the past, after all; it wasn't supposed to affect them now.

Only, it did. One mistake had dictated nearly his every move for the past decade. He couldn't escape it; he couldn't just leave it behind. It continued to haunt him; to threaten him. In coming to Miami, Jake had thought that maybe he could finally outrun it, but it only followed him here as well. It followed him here in the form of an old mentor-turned-enemy, one that brandished a simple envelope; an envelope whose contents had haunted Jake since he'd taken it into his hands.

He was trying to ignore it, but it wasn't going away. Since that evening a couple months ago, Jake had deleted three ominous voicemails from his phone. The first one had sent an unwelcome chill down his spine. The last two he hadn't even listened to. All he wanted was for it to go away; to leave him alone. He wasn't the same man he'd been all those years ago when he'd first began the undercover life; he wasn't the same man who had nothing to lose.

Now, he had everything to lose. Jake had already lost it once; there was no way he wanted to go through that again.

He wanted to run from his past. He wanted to let it go; he wanted to have the happiness he hadn't been allowed to have so long ago. This was what he wanted to hold on to.

Calleigh stirred slightly, an unintelligible murmur leaving her lips. Jake could tell she was barely hanging on to the last threads of sleep; many mornings of simply watching her had clued him into every little nuance. He knew within moments that her eyes would flutter open, the brilliant green orbs disoriented only for a second with the confusion that only waking from deep sleep could bring. Silently he watched her, adoring the peaceful expression on her face; the slight twitch of her lips that slowly became a small smile. For a couple more seconds he watched her, wondering just what she was dreaming.

As he'd expected, Calleigh's face twitched, and ever slowly her eyes fluttered open, locking almost immediately onto Jake's dark eyes. "Mornin', beautiful." Jake smiled, loving the smile that touched Calleigh's lips, not to mention the slight tint in her cheeks. He brushed her cheek ever slightly with his knuckle, the giggle that escaped Calleigh's lips music to his ears. "Sleep well?"

"Mm…" Calleigh stretched luxuriously, slipping her arms out from the covers, revealing the soft skin of her neck and shoulders. She couldn't help the satisfied smirk that touched her lips as she watched Jake's eyes flicker over her, knowing she was teasing him, though unintentional it had been at first. "I haven't slept that well in a long time…" she murmured, sighing happily.

Jake grinned. "I'll bet," he said, giving into the temptation. The tiny amount of creamy skin that she had revealed to him was tantalizing; he couldn't help but lean forward, pressing a reverent kiss to her shoulder.

The feel of his lips on her skin, combined with the look in his eyes sent a delicious shiver racing down her spine and throughout her entire body. She murmured his name in that tone that made Jake's heart skip a beat. His eyes never leaving hers, Jake trailed soft kisses up her shoulder, stopping briefly to nibble at the sensitive skin at her collarbone. Calleigh squirmed as his lips made their way toward her jaw, creeping ever higher before finally they locked onto Calleigh's own mouth, kissing her so intensely that Calleigh knew if she'd been standing, her knees would've given out.

It seemed all too soon that he pulled away from her, and Calleigh whimpered at the loss. Her eyes fluttered open to find Jake grinning widely at her, a grin that Calleigh couldn't help but return as she tried to catch her breath. Lazily she brought a hand to his bare chest, trailing it over him, his sharp intake of air widening her smile.

"So what were you dreaming of?" Jake asked after a moment, gently stroking her hair.

"Hmm?" Calleigh murmured sleepily, tilting her head.

"You were smiling, just before you woke up." He smiled, remembering just how adorable she'd looked. "What were you dreaming?"

Calleigh lowered her eyes, concentrating on the bedspread. Jake had distracted her upon waking, and she'd lost a good deal of the dream. And the rest of it was fading quickly.

But the one thing that remained blaringly obvious was the similarity between this dream, and the dream she'd had a while back. Hailey, her daughter with the blonde hair and the gorgeous dark eyes. The tiny puppy that adored Hailey, just as much as Hailey apparently adored her father. Hailey's father…Calleigh's husband…the man whose face Calleigh still hadn't seen.

And he had even spoken to her in the dream. In a flashback…now _that_ confused Calleigh. How could she have a fake flashback within a dream? Obviously it had never happened, so how could her mind remember it? Logically it was impossible. And she couldn't even remember his voice; she could only remember that he had spoken to her.

She was still no closer to discovering the identity of her mystery man. Her mind remained locked in a spiral of confusion.

Vaguely she remembered that Jake was waiting on an answer, and she shook herself out of her memory, though still she didn't quite meet Jake's eyes again. "I don't remember," she lied, though not because she wanted to hide her dream from Jake. She still needed to figure it out for herself first.

If Jake suspected her of lying, he didn't let on. "Well, it must've been some dream then, because you looked really happy." He smirked. "Must've been dreaming of me."

That pulled Calleigh right out of her pensive mood. She laughed, playfully rolling her eyes. "Oh yeah, Detective, it's you that I dream about every single night," she teased.

Jake grinned. "I can't blame you. I mean, I'm very dreamy." He winked, wrapping his arms around Calleigh. He rolled onto his back, playfully pulling Calleigh on top of him.

Calleigh giggled. "Well, you certainly seem to think so," she teased, touching her forehead to his. She shivered as she felt his hands travel up her back before his fingers threaded into her tousled locks. He attempted to pull her into a kiss, but Calleigh resisted, seeing the clock on the nightstand from the corner of her eye. "Jake…" she protested, grinning nonetheless.

"What?" Jake asked innocently, only making Calleigh giggle even more.

"We have to get ready for work…" she reasoned, shivering as his hands left her hair and began traveling south once more.

"We have plenty of time, babe," Jake whispered, loving the way she reacted to his touch. "The alarm hasn't gone off yet."

Calleigh laughed. "And it probably won't, since I'm betting you turned it off while I was sleeping."

"And why do you still seem to think it's safe to bet against me?" Jake smirked, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles at her hips. "Don't you remember I always win?"

Squirming under the touch of his masterful hands, Calleigh decided she shouldn't be the only one slowly driven out of her mind by this tantalizingly slow-building passion. "First time for everything, hotshot," she replied low, lowering her lips to his chest. She smiled, feeling him shudder beneath her. As she trailed kisses over his skin, Calleigh brought her hands to his chest as well. Maybe it was shallow, but she loved the feel of his muscles beneath her hands.

And Jake loved the feel of her hands, her soft lips traveling so blissfully over his chest. Her intimate knowledge of his body was just as detailed as his of hers; she could have him losing control in mere seconds, just from subtle touches, gentle kisses. "God, I want you," Jake murmured low, his tone making Calleigh shiver again in anticipation. Time be damned; there was no way Calleigh was going to argue with him now. She felt his hands bury themselves in her hair again, and she let him gently direct her back to his lips.

The sun was rising quickly in the sky outside, but that knowledge did nothing to change the pace of their lovemaking. For that moment in time, there was nobody else who existed; there was nothing else that existed save for the world of sensation in which they had submerged themselves. In that world, time stopped for them, leaving them only with the desperate need to draw out each and every feeling for as long as possible, not wanting to let anything slip away.

It was a bubble that remained unbroken until an insistent buzzing sound interrupted the sheer bliss of the moment. As soon as Jake heard it, he groaned inwardly. It wasn't just the vibrations of Calleigh's cell phone on the nightstand; it was a reminder that the real world existed outside of this bedroom, outside of this bed. He couldn't stay in this perfect world forever, and he hated that.

That dreadful buzzing sound had finally seemed to break through to Calleigh's ears as well, and to Jake's dismay, he felt her arm reach out toward the nightstand. Briefly he lingered on the amusement factor; how was Calleigh going to answer that if she was so reluctant to break this kiss for something necessary, like oxygen?

She shifted atop him, pulling a low moan from Jake's lips. Next he expected her to break away from him, fulfilling the dual purpose of answering that damn phone and further torturing him. But that wasn't to be. Instead of pulling away from him to answer the phone, Calleigh only knocked it forcefully to the floor, sending all other distractions crashing down with it. And Jake couldn't help but smirk against her lips before he lost himself completely again.

**..**

It was all too soon that Jake was forced to disentangle himself from Calleigh and pull himself out of bed. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but unfortunately it was exactly what he had to do. With a groan he stood, stretching lightly before bending down to pick up his boxers.

He looked back down at Calleigh, who had still made no effort to pull herself out of the bed. "Aren't you getting out of bed, Miss we-have-to-get-to-work-on-time?" Jake smirked, pulling on his boxers while Calleigh merely lay in bed, a satisfied grin on her lips. "Or are you too busy enjoying the view?"

Calleigh snorted. "Yeah, Jake. That's exactly what I'm doing," she sassed, rolling her eyes, although she wasn't entirely able to stop the flush that came over her cheeks. Enjoying the view was exactly what she'd been doing. But that was the last thing Jake and his ego needed to know.

Jake snickered. "Of course, I can't blame you," he said cockily, bending over to retrieve Calleigh's phone. "I'd say you pissed somebody off real well," he quipped, tossing her the phone.

"They'll get over it," Calleigh shrugged, catching the phone. "I had, ah, more important things to be doing," she added suggestively, grinning coyly.

Before Jake could utter a clever reply, Calleigh's eyes dropped to her phone, and almost immediately her satisfied grin faded into a frown as she studied the number on the display. Jake's playful mood quickly became one of slight concern. "Everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Calleigh replied, nodding slightly. "It's just work," she said, forcing a smile. And maybe it was, or maybe it wasn't. That number had called her so many times in the past several years; sometimes it was work, other times it wasn't. But the truth remained that Calleigh would recognize that number anywhere. And for it to show up on her display now, it almost had to be work. Or…maybe it wasn't. Calleigh wouldn't know until she listened to the voicemail.

"Okay," Jake said, understanding her displeasure. He didn't want anything to do with work today either, not after the morning they'd just spent together. "I'm going to take a shower."

Calleigh smiled in response, watching Jake leave before she dialed the number for voicemail. With a sigh, she punched in her passcode and lifted her phone, her shoulders slumping as Eric's voice filled her ear.

It seemed her carefree morning, the one she'd needed for _so_ long, was over.


	16. Whatever You Want

**_Chapter Sixteen  
Whatever You Want_**  
-

_As far as most were concerned, it was a terrible day. It was the kind of day that everybody swore they wanted during the winter, but by the time summer actually arrived, nobody wanted it after all. It was the hottest day of the year so far, and the fact that it was only early July didn't exactly bring comfort to anybody, not even to those who were used to this kind of heat._

_Thunder had been rumbling in the distance since the early hours of the morning, accompanying the dark, heavy clouds overhead. The wind had begun to pick up, but instead of bringing relief, it only blew even more hot air around. As if the weather wasn't ominous enough, the entire area was under a tornado watch; this storm system had already battered parts of Texas with tornadoes._

_But the sweltering Louisiana heat and the threat of severe weather did nothing to scare the criminals into hiding. No, if anything, it only helped to bring them out in full force._

_Calleigh could certainly sympathize with those unlucky enough to be working patrol today. It wasn't that long ago that Calleigh was out there herself, chasing down the bad guys in this summer heat. But, it wasn't too cool inside the lab either. Once the temperature passes a certain point, no amount of air conditioning can mask it. And the temperature had passed that point hours and hours ago._

_Luckily, the only obligation Calleigh had at the moment was paperwork, and that wasn't a terribly pressing matter. Or, maybe it was pressing - after all, what had once been a couple of cases that Calleigh had put off had become seventeen cases. They had piled up right before her eyes. Normally, Calleigh didn't slack off like this, but the past few weeks had been tough on her._

_A reminiscent smile touched her lips; those few tough weeks had finally come to an end just the night before. It was the nights like that which made the loneliness tolerable, the pain a little more bearable._

_So while to most this was a dreadful day, filled with extreme heat, severe weather, and way too many unsolved cases, Calleigh couldn't help but wear a perpetual smile. She didn't care about the endless stack of paperwork. She didn't care that her cheeks were flushed and her hair damp from the heat. She wasn't even annoyed by the sticky tendrils that had fallen out of her ponytail to plaster themselves to her neck or her face. The summertime heat was nothing compared to the heated sensations she'd experienced just the night before._

_It was all there, still so vibrant in her mind. The phone call she'd gotten mere moments before he arrived in the driveway. The way her heart had skipped a beat as she heard the unmistakable click of his key in the lock. The way she had shivered as his eyes locked with hers for the first time in weeks; the way that look in his eyes made her feel like the most beautiful woman alive. The soft whimper that escaped her lips as he took her in his arms, holding her tightly, breathing her in as she did the same. And then she'd lost herself as soon as he'd crushed his lips against hers, kissing her so deeply that within seconds her head was spinning and her knees were wobbling._

_For what felt like the thousandth time this morning, Calleigh let her eyes fall closed as the memories washed over her, her smile widening as the flush in her cheeks deepened, her imagination utterly consumed by this exquisite daydream._

_But as with all good things, it wasn't to last. In moments the door to her lab came open, the clack of heels on the floor telling Calleigh immediately who it was - Amy from trace, and Jen from DNA. When Calleigh had transferred from patrol to the crime lab, she had formed a fast friendship with both of them. It had been so long since she'd had a few real girlfriends, so it was more than nice to have somebody to hang out with after work, or to go out with on the weekends. The only drawback was that Amy and Jen loved their gossip, and once they had discovered the juicy details of Calleigh's relationship with Jake, that had become their favorite topic. Those two had a very narrow view of privacy._

_But try as she might, Calleigh just couldn't force away her smile, nor could she extinguish the sparkle from her own eyes. And to her slight dismay, Jen latched onto that immediately. "What are you so happy about today?" she asked._

_With a sigh, Calleigh shook her head, directing her eyes back to her paperwork. "Nothing," she said. But as she denied it, her grin grew even wider._

_"Oh come on, Cal," Jen coaxed, watching Calleigh carefully. "Nobody smiles like that for no reason."_

_Calleigh shrugged. "I'm just having a good day," she persisted, again knowing her smile was giving her away. But what could she do, stop smiling? Calleigh honestly wasn't sure that was possible, not today._

_"How can you be having a good day today?" Jen asked exasperatedly, turning her head toward the lone window in the lab. "It's like a hurricane out there."_

_"Stop exaggerating," Calleigh chastised playfully, "it hasn't even started raining yet."_

_"But it will," Jen continued. "And I bet you'll still be grinning like the cat that got the cream. And you would continue to be happy and oblivious even if the lab crashed down around you."_

_Calleigh opened her mouth to protest, but stopped as Jen's until now silent companion gave a dramatic gasp. "I know exactly why you're so happy today," Amy said knowingly, a smug smile touching her lips. "Jake came home last night, didn't he?"_

_Calleigh didn't reply at first, but she didn't need to. She could feel her cheeks burning; she could feel her lips tugging even further upward. Without looking up, she knew Amy and Jen were looking at each other, both of them with "aha!" looks on their faces. Her secret was out; though really, she'd done nothing but fail at keeping it a secret. She gave a deep sigh, resigning herself to the next several minutes. "Yeah, he did," she replied softly, unable to keep the slightest dreamy lilt out of her voice._

_"I knew it!" Amy exclaimed, while Jen giggled next to her. "You always get like this when he comes home!"_

_"I do not," Calleigh protested, rolling her eyes. Certainly she was happy, but she wasn't as giddy as these two made her out to be. At least, she didn't think she was._

_She was just as happy as she had the right to be. She hadn't seen Jake in weeks; hadn't spoken to him in just as long. Those weeks had been nothing but torture, filled with endless hours of worrying and wondering. Was Jake alright? Would he be coming home soon? What if the last time he left home had really been the last time? What if something happened to him?_

_But last night, all those unthinkable questions had been silenced, leaving Calleigh's mind blissfully empty of everything but the man who lay in bed beside her. She couldn't help it; for a couple of hours, she had lain there beside him, simply watching him sleep, knowing that tonight he was safe beside her, and not running around some dark street somewhere. He was home._

_"Okay hon," Jen drawled, bringing Calleigh once more back to the present, something Calleigh wished people would stop doing, at least for today. Resting her elbows on the table, Jen gave Calleigh a conspiratorial grin. "Spill."_

_Calleigh's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"_

_"You heard me," Jen smirked. "Spill. What is so great about this guy to have you grinning like a lunatic in the middle of the lab? What about him keeps dragging you off to la-la land? What is this amazing thing that us single girls are missing?" She paused for a moment, as though deep in thought. "Can't be just the sex, because Amy gets enough of that anyway, and she never looks ready to burst out in song or anything like that."_

_"Hey!" Amy scoffed, shoving at her best friend's shoulder._

_Jen shrugged. "It's the truth."_

_"You're just jealous, Jen."_

_On the other side of the table, Calleigh sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She loved her friends; she knew they meant well, and they were a lot of fun to go out clubbing with - they did manage to get Calleigh to have a little fun when Jake was gone somewhere - but they did enjoy their gossip too much. All Calleigh wanted at the moment was for them to let her relive her night in peace, but she knew the likelihood of that was rather slim at the moment._

_"So what is it?" Jen continued, once she and Amy had finished ribbing each other. "What makes Jake Berkeley so special? Why should Amy and I want to steal him from you?" she teased._

_"You try to steal him from me, and I swear I'll shoot you," Calleigh warned, though her eyes sparkled teasingly. "And I've got damn good aim."_

_Jen smirked. "Ooh, I'm so scared," she teased, giving a false shudder. "And you're avoiding the question."_

_"And we're not leaving until you fill us in," Amy added brightly. "So you might as well just tell us. What is it about this guy that makes him different than anybody else in the dating pool?_

_Calleigh sighed dreamily, tilting her head thoughtfully. "I don't know…" she murmured, picking at a stray thread on her lab coat. "He's just…" Calleigh shrugged, honestly unable to find the words. She couldn't even explain to herself this hold that Jake seemed to have over her. Certainly he was good looking, and he did know just how to use his charm. But Calleigh had always been able to look past those traits in other men; she had always been able to keep herself from falling. But Jake was different. With Jake, everything was different. And Calleigh didn't know how to escape that; but then again, it wasn't something she really wanted to escape either, not now, at least._

_After taking a deep breath, Calleigh tried once more to put it all into words, only to yet again find herself speechless._

**_.._**

Calleigh gave a sigh as Jake stopped the car out in front of the crime lab. She just knew it was going to be another long day. She wasn't due in for another two hours, but according to Eric's message, Natalia couldn't make it in this morning, so her part of the case was shifted onto Calleigh. And it also meant she'd be working with Eric.

While things had gotten better between them, they were nowhere near where they had been before. Eric remained slightly guarded around her, and while Calleigh certainly couldn't freely ask him to talk to her, she missed the openness that they had had before. She missed the easy conversations that they had once had, some of them going on for hours at a time.

Suddenly her door came open, jarring her out of her thoughts. Startled, she glanced up to find Jake smiling down at her; when had he gotten out of the car himself? Calleigh hadn't noticed.

"Everything okay?" Jake asked, having picked up on Calleigh's wandering mind.

Calleigh smiled softly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'd just really rather still be in bed right now," she replied jokingly, pulling herself out of the car.

Jake smirked. "You and me both," he quipped, letting his eyes travel over her. After as many days and nights he had spent with her, Jake couldn't deny that he had a certain weakness for the mornings that they shared. The mornings were quiet, empty of all the noise of the day. The day was only beginning, leaving it free from worry, from anxiety. In the mornings, it was, and had always been, just _them_. He treasured their mornings.

Calleigh smiled slightly, pushing her hair behind her ears. "And you probably could've still been asleep right now," she said quietly, an apologetic note to her voice. "I promise as soon as I can I'm going to see about getting a new car, so then you don't have to keep driving me around or lending me your car."

Jake smiled, leaning casually against the car. "It doesn't bother me. I have to go in to work anyway. And besides, I don't mind spending the extra time with you."

Calleigh chuckled softly, finding herself unable to hide a smile. "You always know just what to say, don't you?"

"Well, of course I do," Jake replied smugly. "And you know you love it."

"I certainly can't say I'm opposed to it," Calleigh sassed. She opened her mouth to add more, but at that moment her cell vibrated at her hip. A quick glance at the display revealed that work seemed to wait for nothing. "I've got to go," Calleigh murmured, already missing the bubbly feeling that Jake was almost always able to start within her.

Casually Jake took a step closer to her, a grin playing at his lips. Unable to resist the temptation, he reached out, resting his palms at Calleigh's hips. "So can I take you to lunch later?"

Calleigh chuckled. "If you're good," she teased, a devilish glint in her bright green eyes.

Jake smirked. "Baby, I'm always good," he said low, gently tightening his hold on her.

His voice, combined with the feel of his hands at her hips, sent a shiver down Calleigh's spine. She gave an amused chuckle, shaking her head slightly. "Oh really? Because right now, I think you're being pretty bad."

"And again, you love it," Jake said confidently, knowing he was right even before Calleigh grinned in response.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to test that theory at lunch, now won't we?" she drawled, purposely thickening her accent.

And there was another one of Jake's few other weaknesses - Calleigh's voice, especially that accent of hers. She had to know just what that Southern drawl did to him. "I think I like that idea," Jake replied low, pulling Calleigh slightly closer to him.

"I thought you might." Calleigh laughed softly, forcing herself not to get lost in the moment. As enjoyable as this was, she did have to get to work. "Okay, well, I'll see you later, then," she said. With a grin, she stepped onto her tiptoes, pressing a quick peck to Jake's lips. Slipping out of his arms, she turned away, ready to head inside.

"Not so fast," Jake said. He reached out and caught her arm, gently spinning her back to him. Before Calleigh could say anything, Jake captured her lips, kissing her soundly.

To say that it caught her off-guard would be an understatement. But it would be even more wrong to say that she didn't enjoy it. The spinning motion, along with the intensity of the kiss left her dizzy in no time, and she placed a hand on Jake's chest, as though trying to keep her balance.

As he broke the kiss, Jake had to smirk at the dazed look in Calleigh's eyes. He watched her blink a couple of times, letting her regain her bearings before he spoke. "Now you can go."

Speechless, Calleigh could only shake her head in amazement as she turned away from him, a slow grin spreading across her lips as she walked.

"So…lunch?" Jake called after her, still smirking.

Calleigh waved a hand in response. "Call me," she replied, her voice partially a giggle.

**..**

Her mood hadn't dampened a bit by the time she reached the break room. She walked with an extra spring in her step, and while she had been discouraged by the idea of working earlier, at this point she was convinced that nothing could bring her down. She had lunch to look forward to.

But that was still several hours away, and Calleigh knew there was really only one thing that could make the morning go by more quickly - caffeine. She hadn't had time to make her usual cup of coffee this morning, so she would have to settle for the coffee in the break room. Calleigh would just have to hope that Horatio hadn't made it again - how anybody could call anything that strong good was beyond her.

Pushing open the door, Calleigh was pleased to see what looked like a substantial amount of coffee in the coffee maker, and her companion for the day, both in the break room, meaning she wouldn't have to spend time trying to find either of them. "Hey, Eric," she greeted, smiling brightly despite the early hour. As soon as she was in the room, she made a beeline for the coffee maker.

Eric looked up, feeling a smile begin at his own lips. He didn't care how many sunrises he was up in the morning in time to see; there was still nothing more beautiful than Calleigh's smile. There was nothing else that could start the fluttering sensation in his stomach and the quickened beating of his heart like her smile could. Softly he said her name in greeting while discreetly he let his eyes travel over her, once more committing her beauty to memory. "I, uh, I didn't wake you this morning, did I?" he asked tentatively, knowing that his phone call had come a few hours before Calleigh was even due in.

True, he could've called somebody else, but nobody else had Calleigh's experience. And Eric couldn't help being a little selfish; he didn't want to work with anybody else. So when Natalia had called in sick, Eric had smiled, knowing he could call Calleigh.

It didn't register until after he'd called though, that he might've woken her. And then the guilt had set in.

Calleigh shook her head. "Nah, I was up. I just couldn't get to the phone." She turned her head, hiding the slight blush in her cheeks from Eric. But what was she really hiding? The fact that she had just sort of lied to her best friend? Or the fact that she had been with Jake when he had called? She wasn't sure, and so she concentrated solely on wishing away the flush in her cheeks, knowing she could only keep her back to Eric for so long.

Having not noticed the sudden burst of color in Calleigh's cheeks, Eric gave a sigh of relief. "I didn't think about the time until after I hung up," he explained.

Calleigh smiled brightly. "It's okay, Eric," she reassured. "Just let me get my coffee, and we can get started."

Eric lifted an eyebrow, watching her reach for the coffee pot. "I wouldn't drink that stuff if I were you," he warned. "That's been there since yesterday morning."

Calleigh made a face, and Eric couldn't help but smirk. "Why hasn't anybody made any more?" she pouted, already opening the cabinets overhead, desperate for the caffeine.

"I would've, but I thought you and I could stop and get some coffee worth drinking on the way." Eric smiled, leaning against the counter a few steps away from her. "My treat."

Calleigh grinned. "You're my hero," she teased, her eyes sparkling.

Eric snickered. "I'm not a hero; I'm a coward." He winked, letting Calleigh know he was teasing. "I'm just afraid of you when you don't get your coffee."

Calleigh scoffed, playfully shoving at Eric's elbow. "You're mean; you know that?" she said with a laugh.

"Hey, I did say it was my treat," Eric argued good-naturedly. "That has to count for something, right?"

"Only if you let me get whatever I want," she sassed, batting her eyelashes slightly. For a moment it amazed her, just how easily they had slipped back into the flirty banter that they'd shared once upon a time. Earlier she had been worried about things never being anything but awkward between them, but right now, it seemed just like it had been before. This was what she missed.

Eric felt his heart skip a beat at that one, flirty motion. He wondered if she would ever know the power that she had over him. "Of course you can get whatever you want," he replied. As far as he was concerned, Calleigh always deserved to get whatever she wanted.

Calleigh smiled brightly. "Good," she said happily. Satisfied, she moved away from the coffee maker. As her path took her past Eric, he couldn't help but let his eyes fall closed, letting the soft scent of her perfume wash over him. He would be hard-pressed to find anything that smelled sweeter. But that was Calleigh; nothing more beautiful, nothing sweeter, nothing more amazing.

"So where are we going this morning?" Calleigh asked, oblivious to Eric's daydream of her.

With a sigh, Eric turned to face Calleigh, looking directly into her expectant green eyes. "You and I are headed to the beach," he said, the idea putting a smile back on his face.

Calleigh chuckled. "I do love the beach. Soaking up some sunshine, listening to the ocean…"

Eric smirked. "Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I don't think you're going to be doing much sunbathing today," he replied, enjoying the visual of a sunbathing Calleigh in his mind, though cursing it at the same time. How was he supposed to get any work done now that he'd imagined that?

"Oh, well, that's too bad." Calleigh gave a pretend pout. "Lord knows I could certainly use some sun," she added playfully, stretching an arm out in front of her, making a face at her pale skin tone.

"I think you look beautiful," Eric replied softly, unable to stop himself. As soon as the words left his lips, he cringed. Honestly, he was trying to step back. It was killing him, but if Calleigh was happy, he didn't want to interfere with that. And if she wasn't happy…well, he would be waiting. But he didn't want to be the cause of any problems between Jake and Calleigh. Briefly he wondered if maybe he should apologize.

Calleigh lowered her eyes, and after a moment Eric let out the breath he'd been holding as a shy smile touched her lips. "You're sweet," she murmured, fidgeting ever slightly with her hands.

Eric had no reply to that, but he wasn't willing to let them lapse into the heavy silence that threatened them. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward. "We should probably get going," he said quietly. "Especially since I promised you coffee."

Shaking her head, Calleigh started to protest. "You know, you don't have to -"

"I want to," Eric interrupted. He smiled. "After all, I did say you could have whatever you wanted."

Calleigh chuckled softly. He didn't have to, but Calleigh knew there was no use in arguing with him. "Thanks, Eric," she said sincerely, finally lifting her eyes back to his.

Eric shrugged. "Don't mention it." As far as he was concerned, just being around her was thanks enough. "Come on," he said, holding the door open for her. Calleigh smiled, her heels tapping against the floor as she made her way through the doorway, Eric following close behind her.

And instinctively, Eric's hand found its way to her back, just barely lingering there as he led her out of the lab.


	17. Some Things Never Change

**_Chapter Seventeen  
Some Things Never Change_**  
-

And there it was; weakness number three: the seductive sway of Calleigh's hips. Jake would swear she did it on purpose, just to tantalize him; a thought that was confirmed as he saw her glance back and wink at him.

Momentarily his eyesight was distracted from her hips as Calleigh shook her long blonde hair over her back. Even when walking away from him, Calleigh knew just how to get his attention, not that she was ever lacking in it anyway. Calleigh always commanded his full attention. If she was in the same room as him, she was the _only_ person in the room with him. If she was talking to him, she was the _only_ person talking to him. She'd had that effect on him ever since day one.

And that was what made that one choice so long ago the hardest decision of his life. It had killed him to let her walk away from him, but under the circumstances, what else could he have done? Jake had only had two choices, and neither of them would've allowed him to be with Calleigh.

It might've seemed like he'd taken the easy way out, but in reality there was no easy way out. It killed him, but he'd made his decision _for_ Calleigh. He'd hurt her, but if he'd made the other decision, she would've been hurt even more. Jake had made one mistake, and it had cost him everything he'd ever wanted. One mistake.

In the end, he'd made the choice that would've allowed Calleigh to move on, to start over. He'd let her go, though it'd been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

And, oddly enough, he'd come full circle. He was right back where he'd started.

Like Calleigh had told him herself: _"Some things never change."_

A decade later, here Jake was facing that very same predicament. He was in a new city, and he'd grown up considerably, but everything else remained the same. His feelings for Calleigh, and presumably hers for him. What he honestly, truly wanted. The mistake that had haunted him years and years ago. The decision that lay ahead. It was all eerily reminiscent of all that had happened before.

But ten years, and the intensity of what Jake felt for Calleigh hadn't diminished one bit. If anything, it had only increased. Was this where he was supposed to be? Was the decision he'd made so long ago the wrong decision? In every sense, was this truly a second chance to right what he'd done wrong before?

So many questions; so many doubts. The one thing, however, that rang clear in his mind this time was that if Calleigh slipped away from him this time, it wouldn't be because of anything he could control. Letting go just wasn't an option this time. He _needed_ to be with her.

With a sigh, Jake rested against the car, clearing his mind and allowing himself to merely enjoy the view in front of him. Calleigh was gorgeous; as far as Jake was concerned, anybody who didn't appreciate that was crazy.

Not that he _wanted_ anybody else appreciating her beauty, at least not too much, but still. She was mesmerizing.

He loved the way her black pants clung to her hips, snugly, but not too tightly either. They clung to her just enough to hug her curves; just enough to drive Jake crazy, and Jake had a feeling that Calleigh knew that. It was all he could do not to rush forward and spin her around again and close his mouth over her lips, still slightly swollen from their previous kiss. He knew she would protest, though only halfheartedly before her body melted against his, clinging to him tightly with her hands at the back of his neck, tugging gently at his hair.

Such an exquisite daydream it was, but unfortunately, that was all it was. His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a vague sensation at his hip, which Jake after a moment realized to be his phone vibrating. He gave a disgruntled sigh; something always had to be happening in this city.

Without taking his eyes off of Calleigh's retreating form, Jake unclipped his phone from his belt. His mind clearly elsewhere, he failed to check the display first, something he had done religiously for months now.

The calls came sporadically, but they came nonetheless. Always leaving the same foreboding message on his voicemail; the same message that Jake now deleted before ever even listening to it. He didn't need to listen to it; he knew exactly what it said. It was merely a reminder of what he'd unwittingly gotten himself into so long ago; but not that he needed to be reminded of that. Jake was reminded of that every time he got into his car and felt that offending manila envelope brush against his leg.

Part of him was hoping that if he did ignore it, it would go away. It would just disappear.

But did anything _ever_ work out like that?

Not in Jake's life. Ignoring things usually only made them blow up in his face. Ignoring things usually ended with him losing everything.

But he'd lost everything anyway, hadn't he? Everything but his undercover alias.

And this time, that undercover alias was what he wanted to lose. He wanted to be Jake Berkeley; he wanted to live his own life. He didn't want to succumb once more to the lifestyle he had idolized as a kid; the lifestyle that had turned out to be nothing like what he had wanted after all.

He wanted _now. _He wanted his life, and he wanted to be with Calleigh. And that was what he was going to fight for.

But his current state of distraction didn't allow him to ignore the darker side of his life, the side he wanted so desperately to leave behind. His eyes never even glanced toward the display as he opened his phone. He never even thought about who might be on the other end of the line.

His eyes still on the beautiful woman walking away from him, Jake lifted his phone to his ear, answering with a distracted, "Yeah. Berkeley."

There was a pause, almost as though the caller was surprised that Jake had answered. And then, so clearly Jake heard the voice, that one voice that he'd been trying to run from; the voice of the man from his undercover past, the one Jake wanted nothing more than to leave behind and never hear from again.

"You've been ignoring my calls, Berkeley."

**..**

Calleigh slipped her sunglasses over her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair, immediately commanding Eric's attention. He'd meant what he'd let slip out in the break room earlier; she _was_ beautiful. She'd always been the most beautiful woman he'd known. In the past, however, he'd had a hard time seeing Calleigh as two things at once - she was either his best friend, or she was a beautiful woman that he wanted to be with. Was it possible for her to be both? Eric had no idea.

It was the thought that plagued him as they crossed the beach in relative silence, the crime scene growing closer and closer. If he had taken a chance all those years ago, would he have a best friend today? Or, if he wanted to keep his best friend, would there ever be a chance for more between them? That was the problem; he wanted to hold onto both. He wanted his best friend, but he wanted more than that too.

The ride to the beach had been oddly relaxing. He'd expected tension; it was what generally happened when he and Calleigh were together in a closed-in space lately. But there had been nothing tense about the ride, not for him, nor for Calleigh, if her relaxed posture was anything to go by. Halfway to the beach, she had even begun humming along with the song on the radio. Eric had bit his lip, trying not to smile; trying not to give away that he heard her, for fear that she might stop.

From there branched off another train of thought; Eric couldn't help but wonder if she sung. Calleigh was quite a private person; obviously she wouldn't burst into song in the middle of the lab, but Eric couldn't help but wonder if she sang around the house while doing mundane chores. While washing dishes, or vacuuming, or doing laundry...

But once his mind began to wonder if she sang in the shower, Eric forced himself to let it go. He didn't need the visual of Calleigh in the shower to haunt him all day; nor did he want to escape the peaceful atmosphere that had been regenerated between them. And so he'd simply continued driving, allowing himself to silently enjoy the sound of Calleigh humming in the seat next to him.

And now he was walking next to her down the beach, the steady crash of the waves meeting his ears, the sweet scent of Calleigh's perfume delivered to his nose by the soft sea breeze. It was perfection for his senses; the only thing that could make it better would be feeling the softness of her lips against his; feeling the warmth of her body in his arms. And _that_ would be perfect.

For now, he could only daydream as they went on their way, slowly but surely. The loose sand was proving itself a worthy opponent for Calleigh's heels, effectively slowing her walk. And Eric couldn't make himself walk ahead of her; he wanted to walk with her. Faithfully he stayed by her side, allowing her to set the pace as they made their way down the beach, toward the area clearly blocked off with yellow tape.

Without warning, a loose patch of sand gave way beneath Calleigh's right foot, and quickly she threw an arm out, hoping to keep her balance. It wasn't enough though, and Calleigh gave a tiny yelp, bracing herself.

Reflexes quick as lightning, Eric reached out, tightly gripping Calleigh's arm, allowing her to regain her balance. "Careful," he said with a smirk, his eyes flickering down to the heels upon Calleigh's feet. Looking down had the added value of allowing him not to look her in the eye. He wanted to, but if he looked her in the eye, they would probably both end up on the sand. Just touching her had sent a spark of electricity through his body; looking her in the eye right now, while touching her, would knock him off his feet.

But Calleigh's eyes would not have met his anyway; her gaze was lowered, her slight embarrassment apparent. "Guess that'll teach me not to wear heels to the beach," she said with a laugh.

"You okay?" Eric asked, still wearing a smile upon his lips.

Calleigh sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing I haven't done before," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Last time though I didn't have anybody to catch me."

Eric smiled, releasing her arm as they continued walking. "So if you're so clumsy, why wear the heels?" he quipped.

As he'd expected, Calleigh went on the defensive, though a playful defense it was. "I am not clumsy," she sassed, holding her head high. "Obviously I didn't know that I should dress for a day at the beach this morning."

Eric snickered. "Like you'd have worn anything different?"

"Oh, leave me alone," Calleigh retorted, a fake pout upon her lips. Eric couldn't help but smirk again.

Without any more mishaps, they managed to make it down to the actual crime scene. Alexx was in the center, tending to the body of a young girl, half buried in the sand. Standing just outside the tape was the attending officer, a tall brunette that Calleigh didn't recognize.

Stepping forward to greet them, the officer pasted a bright smile across her lips, looking too genuinely happy to be working a crime scene. But perhaps her happiness had something to do with the cheerfulness with which she greeted Eric. "Hey," she said, extending a hand. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Officer Bowman, but you can call me Andrea," she said, her excited blue eyes dancing over Eric but paying no mind to Calleigh. Behind the shield of her sunglasses, Calleigh allowed herself to roll her eyes; it hadn't taken long to figure out why Andrea was so cheerful.

Eric though, only smiled. "CSI Delko; CSI Duquesne," he said, gesturing to Calleigh.

Andrea only afforded Calleigh a quick nod before turning her attention right back to Eric. He had opened his mouth, ready to speak again, but Andrea cut him off. "Delko, huh?" she said, taking a second look at him. "The same Delko that took that bullet to the head awhile back?"

Eric groaned inwardly. Of all the reasons people might know who he was, why did that have to be number one? "Uh, yeah," he replied, unconsciously scratching at the back of his head. "That was me."

"You actually died, didn't you? Flat-lined on the table? And yet, in no time you were back on your feet and back at work, almost like nothing had ever happened." She smiled brightly. "That takes a strong will, not to mention a strong body," she added, her eyes flickering shamelessly over Eric's body.

Eric forced a smile, though really all he wanted to do was get to work. Talking about being shot had a tendency to bring on a headache, and Eric was having too good a day to have one of those. "It was nothing special; I just wanted to get back to work."

"Like I said; a strong will." She winked. "And obviously you know what you want. Keeping your eyes on the goal. I like that."

This time, Eric's smile was real. Slightly embarrassed, but real nonetheless. "Well, what can I say? Knowing what you want can be a powerful motivator," he said, leaving out the fact that sometimes, that just wasn't enough. His eyes gave the faintest flicker to his left, to where Calleigh stood.

Andrea giggled. "It sure can."

Next to Eric, Calleigh tensed. Was she invisible? Was this not a crime scene? All she wanted to do was get to work so they could be finished by lunchtime, but there was nothing she could do until Andrea filled them in.

But that wasn't all that bothered her. There was something mildly irritating about the scene itself. It was something she couldn't quite place; all she knew was that she had been fine when it had just been herself and Eric. So what was the problem now?

It only became worse once Andrea's high-pitched giggle became accompanied by the occasional chuckle from Eric. Calleigh couldn't even concentrate on what they were saying anymore; the laughter bothered her so deeply. Surely that wasn't professional behavior for a crime scene, was it?

Scowling, Calleigh decided neither of them would miss her, and carefully she crossed under the tape, approaching Alexx and the victim. "Hey Alexx," she greeted, kneeling across from her. "What have we got?"

"Poor thing was suffocated," Alexx said, glancing sadly down at the victim. "Liver temp puts time of death around eight hours ago, in the middle of the night."

Calleigh sighed. "A night out gone terribly wrong," she murmured.

"Sure looks that way." Alexx looked up, examining Calleigh closely. There had been a note of bitterness in Calleigh's voice. "What's the matter, sugar?" she asked quietly, tilting her head.

Calleigh lifted an eyebrow. "What?" she asked, confused.

Alexx chuckled. "Calleigh, don't even try that," she said knowingly, smirking at the smile that touched Calleigh's lips. "You know I can see right through that."

Shaking her head, Calleigh gave a sigh. "It's nothing, Alexx. Really," she said, unable to keep her eyes from flickering toward where Andrea chatted amicably with Eric.

And predictably, Alexx picked up on that tiny detail. Calleigh cringed as she watched Alexx's own gaze turn in the same direction she'd glanced a moment before. "I see…" Alexx said, a knowing chuckle in her voice.

Calleigh narrowed her eyes. "I just wish she'd leave him alone so he can concentrate on collecting evidence," she vented. "It's a crime scene, not a speed dating event or anything like that. And she knows he was shot. Even though it was a while back, shouldn't she be worried about distracting him? Doesn't she realize that if he does even the slightest thing wrong, it could open an investigation into him? And -" Calleigh stopped, realizing she had been venting by the slight grin on Alexx's lips. She sighed heavily, changing the subject. "Besides, it's already hot out here, and I don't want to spend all day here when there are things to be done at the lab."

"Of course you don't," Alexx said, smiling.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Calleigh asked slowly. There was just something that bothered her about Alexx's tone.

Alexx lifted her hands in defense. "Nothing at all, honey," she said. But as she met Calleigh's piercing eyes, she couldn't help but relent a bit. "I'm just saying that Eric isn't the only one whose attention doesn't seem to be completely on the case."

"I know that, Alexx. That newbie doesn't care one way or the other about the case," Calleigh replied irritably, scowling again.

Alexx snickered. "Not the officer, Calleigh," she said. "I meant you."

Calleigh gaped. "What?"

"Eric isn't the only one whose attention isn't all on the case," Alexx repeated, standing. She waved toward her van, signaling that the movers could come get the body. "And Officer Bowman isn't the only one whose attention is all on Eric."

Calleigh had no reply for that. In her mind, she marked it off as ridiculous; crazy. Alexx was seeing things; Calleigh wasn't preoccupied with Eric. She just wanted to get the job done so they could go back to the lab. She was completely professional; she just wanted things to be done as efficiently and competently as possible.

But as Andrea reached out, flirtatiously touching Eric's shoulder, Calleigh felt the irritation bubble up within her again. This time though, Alexx's cryptic words nagged at her mind, and Calleigh couldn't help but wonder if maybe she was right. Was it really just about the case? Was she merely irritated, or was it possible that this was something else?

Was Calleigh jealous?


	18. All the World's a Stage

_**Chapter Eighteen**_  
**_All the World's a Stage_**  
-

"I was wondering where you disappeared to."

Eric glanced up, smiling as his eyes landed on Calleigh, gazing down at him from the doorway. The dead girl they'd found on the beach earlier that morning had led them to the lavish beach house on the property. The blood trail in the sand, combined with the evidence of a struggle just outside the front door had gotten them a fast warrant, and Eric had run with it, taking the inside of the house while Calleigh had stuck to the beach outside.

At the time, he'd thought about telling her, but he'd decided against it, deciding that he'd call her and let her know if he found anything. To him, it had seemed like the better idea.

Calleigh however, seemed a bit displeased. "One minute I was talking to Alexx, and then I looked up and you were gone." She put on a pretend hurt expression. "You left me."

Eric smirked. "I called you."

"After the fact," Calleigh sassed. "But I'll forgive you if you tell me you found something good."

"Oh, I found something good, alright," Eric replied smugly, rising from his spot behind the kitchen island.

Calleigh grinned. "So what is it?" she asked, setting her kit down.

"Blood," Eric replied. "And a lot of it, too. So unless this is some crazy coincidence, the murder definitely took place in this house."

Calleigh tilted her head, biting thoughtfully at her lip. It was all Eric could do not to let his eyes wander to and linger on her lips. "I don't think she was killed in here," she thought aloud, recalling the body on the beach.

"What makes you think that?"

"The body wasn't dumped, and even if it was, who would dump a body just a few steps from the actual murder site? And nobody tried to cover it up or anything." She paused, glancing around the small kitchen. "I think the killer may have tried to kill her in here, but somehow she managed to escape, and the farthest she could get before the blood loss got to her was just a few steps down the beach."

"I don't know," Eric replied skeptically. "She'd lost an awful lot of blood in the kitchen. I haven't even gotten to the rest of the house either.

Calleigh shrugged. "Well, fear and adrenaline are funny things," she said lightly. "And plus, if she fought back, it's possible that some of this blood might be the killer's, especially since he stabbed her."

"And stabbers generally cut themselves too," Eric added, looking discouragedly around at all the blood. "This is going to take forever to swab."

Calleigh smirked. "Just be glad you're not Valera," she quipped. "It'll take all night to run all these samples."

"Only because it'll be night before I get done collecting samples," Eric retorted, though amused nonetheless.

"I'll help," Calleigh replied with a grin.

"Oh good. Then it'll just be early evening when we get done."

Calleigh opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off as another voice - a too chirpy, too perky voice - called out from the hallway. "I found some smudges on the window in a room down the hall." Calleigh looked up just in time to see Detective Bowman step into the kitchen, and it was all she could do to keep the scowl off of her face. "They look like they could be handprints," she continued, speaking only to Eric. "I can tell there are two sets. And the blood trail here leads right to it, and there's a pool of blood right in front of it," she finished eagerly.

Eric grinned. "Somebody's excited," he teased.

Andrea shrugged sheepishly. "Well, yeah. It's something big."

"You sure about that?" Eric asked, playfully testing her.

For a moment, Andrea thought. "Blood alone is significant. Add in the obvious signs of a struggle, and yeah, I'd say it's a big thing," she said, annoyingly sure of herself.

"Well then, I guess we should go check it out," Eric replied, still teasing.

Andrea batted her eyelashes. "Well yeah, I guess you should," she replied, mimicking Eric's tone.

"Cute," Eric said with a chuckle. "Now why don't you show me this window?"

"I could've shown you five minutes ago, but for some reason you insisted on standing there and playing games with me," she smirked, beckoning to Eric as she began to head back into the hallway.

"Playing games? I would never," Eric called after her, pretending to be offended. His only answer was Andrea's disbelieving laugh. Silently, Calleigh had a similar reaction of disbelief. _Not playing games? Yeah right,_ she thought irritatedly.

To her surprise, Eric paused at the doorway. "You coming, Cal?" he asked, a bit of a goofy grin on his face.

She didn't want to follow, but a moment later Calleigh somehow found herself standing at Eric's side in a large den, Andrea staring at the window on the far wall.

"See?" she said, still only really talking to Eric. "Blood trail leads right to this window, and pools just below. And by the smudge marks on the window, I'm guessing the killer held her hands up over her head with one hand while he stabbed her with the other," she hypothesized, seemingly proud of her observation skills.

"Well," Eric began, moving closer to the window, "I'd say that's a good possibility." He turned to Andrea, apparently sizing her up. "You, uh, ever think about transferring to CSI?" he asked, grinning.

Andrea laughed. "Uh, not really. Let's just say the science was never my strong suit," she replied. "And besides, I prefer stuff like actually chasing the bad guys; throwing them to the ground, that kind of thing." She grinned. "I prefer the more _physical_ approach."

Three feet away, Calleigh rolled her eyes in disgust. Eric however, only smirked. "I bet you do."

Andrea's eyes glittered. "I can prove it to you, if you wanna go out sometime," she suggested quietly, touching Eric's arm.

Without even realizing it, Eric's eyes glanced quickly to Calleigh. "I, uh, I'll have to think about that," he replied distractedly. Before Andrea could reply, her phone rang, and she quickly answered it. At that moment, Calleigh looked up, and Eric breathed in sharply as his eyes met hers. He couldn't read her eyes, but something kept his gaze locked with hers for several long seconds.

"Okay," Andrea said, reacquiring Eric's attention. She pulled her notepad out of her pocket and flipped through a few pages. "I've got to go, but there's a few other things you should know," she said, finally speaking to Eric in a more professional manner. "I asked around earlier, and one of the of the neighbors was out watering his lawn this morning; said there was a suspicious-looking guy wandering around outside earlier." Andrea glanced down at her notes, taking the opportunity to flip her chestnut hair over her shoulder. "Short guy; obviously shorter than six feet. Didn't look like he was from around here. Said he kept glancing to the house and looking away really quick."

"Well, that can't be good," Eric noted.

Andrea shrugged. "Sounds suspicious to me." She grinned. "But that's for you to figure out now, isn't it?" Once more, she patted Eric's arm, a motion that Calleigh couldn't help but scowl at. "I'll see you later," Andrea said, finally making her exit, something Calleigh couldn't be more grateful for. Everything about the chirpy detective had managed to rub Calleigh the wrong way. Now that she was gone, maybe she and Eric could actually get some work done.

For a few moments they worked silently, their attention fully on collecting evidence and taking pictures of the scene. It wasn't until Calleigh had spent several minutes pondering the smudges on the window that Eric finally spoke.

He had glanced up when he'd heard her stop moving, but that had been several minutes before. Either Calleigh was bothered by something, or she was lost in thought. " Cal?" he called out softly, his curiosity increasing when she didn't respond. Slowly Eric made his way over to her, trying to see what she was seeing. "Calleigh?"

She shook her head slightly, a bit of confusion flickering through her eyes before she turned her head to Eric. "Eric?"

Eric grinned. "Want to share?"

Calleigh's confusion only grew. "Share what?" she asked blankly.

"You were awfully deep in thought there," Eric clarified with a chuckle.

"Oh." Calleigh shook her head. "Yeah, I was just looking at these handprints," she said with a frown. She took a step closer, squinting slightly. "How tall did Bowman say the neighbor said our possible suspect was?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Eric shrugged. "Less than six feet. Where are you going with this?"

"Don't the smudges look a little high to you?" Calleigh asked, mentally calculating. There were two sets of prints; a pair of larger prints, probably belonging to the killer, and a pair of smaller prints, probably belonging to the victim. One of the larger handprints was in the same plane as both of the smaller prints, but there was a complete handprint several inches above those. "See that print right there?" Calleigh said, pointing it out. "It's too high up for somebody less than six feet tall."

Eric squinted. For some reason, he wasn't seeing the same thing that Calleigh was. "What are you talking about?" He saw the print that Calleigh pointed out, but to his eyes it didn't seem that much higher than the other prints.

Calleigh lifted an eyebrow. "Eric," she began slowly, "it's a good four, maybe five inches above the other prints."

Eric didn't reply. He blinked a few times, already knowing what was coming. It usually started with his depth perception, followed by a bit of double vision, proceeding on until he honestly couldn't see a thing. His vision began to swim a little more with each blink, sending everything, not just the prints on the window, spiraling out of focus. It had happened at a scene twice before, and both times his vision had resolved itself within a few moments, but it still scared Eric just as much as it had the first time. He couldn't help wondering, what if this time it was permanent? What was he without his eyes? It was always enough to make his heart skip a few beats; to make his breath catch in his throat.

All of his strength he projected into keeping up his façade, unwilling to show Calleigh that anything was wrong. There was no sense in worrying her over something that happened from time to time anyway. Blinking slowly, Eric shook his head, and after a couple more seconds his vision slowly came back into focus. Before he could focus on the handprint though, his eyes focused on Calleigh's worried face. "Eric?" she asked quietly, restraining herself from touching his arm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Eric replied in what he hoped was a confident tone. He avoided looking directly at Calleigh, knowing she would immediately see through his lie. "I was just thinking," he pressed on, before Calleigh could say anything. "If the prints here are too high for a short person, then how do you explain what Andrea said? About the suspicious person out front earlier?"

Calleigh bit her lip, still not totally convinced that Eric was okay. But he didn't seem to want to linger on it, so Calleigh reluctantly let it go. Maybe she was imagining things - that wasn't unheard of for her lately. "He might not have had anything at all to do with this case, Eric."

"Then why would the neighbor say he was wandering back and forth, casting suspicious glances toward this very house?" Eric challenged.

Calleigh shrugged. "I don't know, Eric. Maybe he noticed that something was wrong and was taking a second look. Or, even more possible, the suspect wasn't as short as the neighbor thought. Eyewitness accounts have a tendency to be very unreliable." She hesitated, biting at her lip. "When I went off into the canal," she added, fighting back a shudder, "all I could remember about the vehicle that hit me was that it was black. I mean, I was there, barely a few feet away from it, and I couldn't remember what it looked like. When things happen fast, your eyes and mind can trick you."

Eric didn't answer at first; he'd had a hard time processing anything after the word _canal._ He wished desperately that she'd stop bringing that up, whether it be in jest or as an example to something else. Just the mention was enough to leave him cold inside; to remind him just how close he'd been to losing her for good.

When he finally found his voice, Eric found his mouth had gone dry; the words that left his lips were quiet, hoarse. "That's true," he mumbled, swallowing. He breathed in a few times, finding himself more than slightly uncomfortable after the visual disturbance he'd experienced, combined with the flashback Calleigh had triggered. He cleared his throat, trying once more to get a grip on his emotions. "Besides, it's all speculation until we actually find a suspect to question," he added, beginning to head back toward the kitchen.

Calleigh followed him, arriving in the kitchen a few moments later. She found Eric standing on the other side of the island, his lips pursed. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

"I'm thinking we need to figure out what happened here. There's a knife missing from the knife drawer here."

Calleigh nodded. "We know she was stabbed."

"Yeah. But the blood patterns aren't steady. You saw them," Eric said. "There are a few small spots in here, a more substantial trail leading to a pool in the hallway, and then the big pool in front of the window." He gazed openly at Calleigh, and though his mind was now fully entrenched upon the case, Calleigh couldn't help but squirm slightly under his scrutiny. "You're about the victim's size," he remarked.

"So? What does that tell us?" Calleigh asked with a shrug.

Eric grinned. "I think if we recreate the crime, then we can figure out exactly what happened. And we can figure out if six feet is tall enough to reach that handprint on the window.

Calleigh thought for a moment, but didn't really find any alternatives. "Okay. Go for it."

"Okay," Eric began, his voice tinted slightly with amusement, "so you're my wife, or my girlfriend," he said, enjoying the sound of the words when used in regard to Calleigh. "And we're arguing. Much like we were earlier."

Calleigh scowled. "We weren't _arguing,"_ she protested.

"Sure we weren't," Eric smirked. "Anyway," he continued, before Calleigh could protest again, "so it gets a little more intense than usual, and our suspect decides he's had about enough of this. He's not gonna take it anymore." Eric reached out, as though grasping a knife from the drawer. "He takes out a sharp knife." With a slight grin, Eric swished his empty hand through the air, tracing a distinctive pattern.

That was it. Calleigh couldn't fight the giggles that forced their way to the surface. "What are you, Zorro?" she teased, her eyes sparkling.

Eric narrowed his eyes. "That wasn't a Z," he defended, as though it were obvious. "That was a D. For Delko," he added proudly. "Anybody can see that."

"Uh, I'm sorry, but that really wasn't a D," Calleigh persisted with a smirk. "What alphabet did you learn when you were a kid?"

"The right one," Eric shot back, barely holding back a chuckle. "Which is obviously not the same one you learned." He snickered. "Can't tell the difference between a Z and a D," he muttered amusedly, shaking his head.

"Only because _nobody_ can tell the difference when it's you that's writing the letters," Calleigh retorted. "Or carving them through the air, or whatever nonsense you were just doing."

Eric grinned, changing the subject completely. "See? _Now_ we're arguing. _Now _the mood is set. And _now_ we can act out the crime," he remarked dramatically. Part of his excitement was just relief that the earlier tension between them had seemingly vanished, but the other half of him just really wanted to make Calleigh laugh. Nothing sounded more adorable to him than Calleigh's laugh.

Shaking her head, Calleigh let out an amused chuckle. "Remind me why you're a CSI and not on Broadway somewhere," she remarked sarcastically.

"Because you'd miss me too much, that's why," Eric smirked. "Anyway," he continued pointedly, before Calleigh could comment, "so our killer has this knife. He advances on our victim with that knife, likely jabbing it at her angrily and carelessly," he said, showily wielding his invisible knife.

Calleigh was trying desperately not to laugh. "You are getting way too into this," she teased.

Eric grinned. "Hey. I'm just trying to find out the truth," he said with a wink.

"Sure, if the truth is a medieval fencing tournament instead of a modern day, gruesome stabbing," Calleigh remarked, obviously amused. This was what she missed - the teasing, the joking around, the fun they'd always had when they'd worked together. This was the kind of case that Calleigh had often requested to work with Eric, because he was always able to look beyond the case and not lose himself in the negatives of it. He could have her laughing in the middle of almost any crime scene. Letting out a breath, Calleigh forced her mind back to the case at hand. "So as the killer is shoving the knife at her, our victim probably raised her hands in defense, and that explains the small puddles of blood in here, as well as the jagged cuts on the palms of her hands. Defensive wounds."

Eric nodded. "She wasn't thinking about the fact that he had a knife in his hand; she was only concerned with pushing him away. First instinct."

Calleigh sighed. "Well, your first instinct isn't always the best choice," she said heavily. Noticing that Eric bit slightly at his lip, Calleigh continued before he could comment. "So eventually she realizes that what she's doing isn't going to work, and it's at this point that she starts to panic. Flight instinct takes over, and she tries to make a run for it." She turned away from Eric, following the trail of blood droplets out of the kitchen.

"But our killer isn't too happy with that, because he's not done saying what he wants to say," Eric said. "So he follows her."

"And that only makes her move faster, and the blood from the cuts on her hands drips erratically here and there," Calleigh observed, noting that the drops of blood in the hallway were less uniform than the ones in the kitchen. Following the trail, Calleigh found herself once more in the back room of the house, Eric close on her heels. "For some reason, she runs in here. But why?"

Eric shrugged. "The window is fairly large; maybe she thought she could escape through there?"

Calleigh thought for a moment before crossing the room to the window. Experimentally she tugged at the bottom, finding that it wouldn't budge, no matter how hard she pulled. "She ran herself right into a dead end," she said quietly, turning back to Eric. "Window's jammed and won't open for her."

"And that gave our killer time to advance on her," Eric added, coming closer to Calleigh. "She had nowhere else to run."

Calleigh sighed. "He probably grabbed her by the waist, which would explain the bruises on her stomach." She stepped away from the window, taking a spot in front of the wall instead. "He spun her around and slammed her against the window."

Eric nodded. Without thinking, he stepped directly in front of Calleigh, leaving only inches between their bodies. "She struggled against him -"

"Alexx said there was tissue in her fingernails," Calleigh interjected. "She probably scratched him."

"And no doubt that pissed him off," Eric commented. Pursing his lips, he glanced over to the window, feeling everything finally start to click into place. "With one hand he reaches out, bracing himself against the window, and that makes the highest handprint." His hand snugly gloved, Eric reached out, pressing his right hand against the wall in a spot nearly even with the print on the adjacent window. With his other hand, he effortlessly caught both of Calleigh's hands, lifting them gently over her head, barely registering her tiny gasp of surprise. "And this explains the other three, odd-looking handprints," he breathed.

More stunned than she'd like to admit, Calleigh stared into Eric's eyes, feeling as though the bottom of her stomach had dropped out. She knew the point was to demonstrate that the victim had been defenseless, but _Calleigh _felt like the defenseless one here. Eric had her hands; Eric had her back against a wall; Eric was standing in front of her, with his tempting eyes and lips and the overwhelming scent of his cologne assaulting her senses. She knew it was wrong, but could she do anything about it? Honestly, she wasn't sure.

She tried to swallow, finding that her mouth had gone dry. "She couldn't defend herself anymore," Calleigh choked out, hoping her voice sounded steadier than she thought. She tried desperately to bring herself back into the case; after all, they _had_ done this before. They _had_ reenacted events of a crime before; they _had_ been this close to each other before.

But back then, the situation had been different. And that changed everything.

"You were right," Eric said suddenly, breaking Calleigh out of her thoughts.

She blinked in confusion, not at all sure what he was talking about. "What?" she asked, hating herself for the tiniest shake in her voice.

Eric smiled. "Either the neighbor's perception and memory were skewed, or the guy he saw just can't be the killer. Nobody under six feet could've reached that high on the window, while holding the victim tightly at the same time."

Calleigh swallowed once more, glancing to the window beside them. From her position it was difficult to see, but she did manage to make out the smudges on the window; they were nearly even with hers and Eric's hands. "The killer had to be closer to your height," she murmured, making the mistake of looking back into Eric's dark eyes.

"Mm-hmm." Eric gazed unwaveringly down into Calleigh's eyes, the weight of their position only just now beginning to hit him. He couldn't quite read her eyes; he wasn't sure if she had guarded herself from him, or if she too was feeling far too many emotions to show just one. Either way, the situation excited Eric. His heartbeat quickened within his chest; his mind found it difficult to remember that they were working a case.

A quick glance to his hand against the wall reminded him of the stab wounds on the victim's abdomen. There was a lot of blood in front of the window, so the killer had to have stabbed the victim there. "At this point," Eric continued, forcing himself to bring the case back to the forefront of his mind, "once the victim began to get tired of struggling, our killer removed his hand from the wall, and probably took the knife out of his pocket or wherever he'd stashed it. Then he goes in for the kill," he said, bringing his hand to Calleigh's waist. "He stabs her here, here, and here," Eric added, ghosting his fingertips gently over Calleigh's abdomen before finally allowing his hand to rest just above her right hip.

Internally, Calleigh was panicking. This was too much. Her heart was beating erratically, pounding against her ribcage. She found it difficult to pull in enough oxygen to keep her head from spinning. She felt almost trapped; why was Eric doing this to her? Didn't he know this was too much for her to handle?

She needed to escape. She needed to break away, to give the situation time to normalize itself again, to get some air to her lungs; air that wasn't tinged with Eric's dizzying scent.

So why couldn't she move? It was as though she'd lost all control of her body; if Eric let her go now, would she crumble to the ground? Calleigh didn't know. She attempted to bring his name to her lips, but all that left her lips was a bit of a muffled squeak; a sound at which Calleigh cringed internally.

If Eric could've smirked, he might have. But even he had passed the point where he couldn't bring himself to tease Calleigh. This moment was just too heavy for that. Her face was mere millimeters from his; if he tilted his head just slightly, he could touch his forehead to hers. Quietly he breathed her name, unsure of how much longer he could resist the temptation to close what little bit of distance remained between their lips.

Calleigh moved her head slightly, her eyes once more locking with his. The intensity in those dark orbs sent an entire line of shivers racing down her spine, spreading out through the rest of her body, leaving her feeling all out of sorts. It wasn't something she could put a name to, the myriad of frantic feelings swirling through her.

She couldn't count the number of levels on which this was wrong. Not only were they at work, but they were in the middle of a crime scene. There was evidence to take back to the lab; there were case reports to be written. And Eric was supposed to be her best friend; he wasn't supposed to have this kind of hold over her, figuratively or literally. And then there was Jake…

Her mind flashed back to that morning, to the way he'd kissed her, the way he'd looked at her, the feelings he'd brought forth in her. She'd felt positively bubbly with him that morning. Jake had always been able to work his charm on her, and that was part of the reason why she'd fallen so hard for him in the first place. When Jake's only concern was Calleigh; when Calleigh was all that he could see, there weren't many, if any, times that Calleigh could honestly say she'd felt better. The feeling was indescribable.

The problem was that this feeling, what she felt right now with Eric…_that_ was indescribable too.

If there was one thing she knew about her feelings for both, Calleigh knew they were different. Her feelings for Eric were obviously different feelings than what she felt for Jake, and vice versa. But that didn't mean she could put a name to either one of them. All she knew for sure was confusion. Jake made her feel wanted. Eric made her feel wanted. But _wanted_ with both of them seemed to hold two different connotations, and Calleigh's mind still just couldn't decide which one she needed. Her mind just wouldn't cooperate with her heart's need to make a decision, and soon.

Would she ever really, honestly know what she wanted? Calleigh was beginning to fear that she wouldn't.

The next few moments were a blur to her already clouded head. She saw Eric's lips twitch slightly; she saw the look in his eyes change. She felt him start to lean in to her; she felt her eyelids flutter closed; she felt his warm breath brush over her face…

And then the moment was broken by a telltale ringing at Calleigh's hip. Eric released Calleigh's hands almost immediately, quickly stepping away from her, making sure to get a good three feet of space between them and his back to her. It still wasn't enough for Calleigh though; on shaky legs she crossed to the other side of the room; the side closest to the only exit. She could run now, if she had to. Neither one of them cast a single glance toward the other; that would mean acknowledging what had just happened, which currently wasn't an option.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Calleigh pulled her phone from her hip, taking a quick look at the display before lifting it to her ear. "Jake; hey," she greeted, hoping she didn't sound as frantic as she felt. Tugging off one of her gloves, Calleigh squeezed the bridge of her nose, not believing what she'd almost let happen.

"Where are you?" Jake asked.

"I'm at a scene, why?" Calleigh replied, putting all her energy toward reclaiming her control.

"I, um, I thought maybe we could grab an early lunch. But if you're working -"

"No, Jake," Calleigh interrupted, "it's fine. I think I need a break anyway. Lunch would be great." She gave him the address of the crime scene, and after a few more words she closed her phone, reclipping it to her belt. Letting out a breath, she turned to Eric, only to find that his back was to her; once more, he was intent on studying the evidence. "Eric, I -"

"It's fine, Calleigh," Eric said, his voice giving nothing away. "I'll take over here. You go and enjoy your lunch."

It sounded strange, but Calleigh didn't allow herself to dwell on it; she couldn't let herself dwell on it. So instead she only murmured a quiet thanks, part of her wishing he would look at her; the other part glad that he wouldn't face her. The only thing that her entire being agreed with was that she needed to get out of there for a little while.

Eric gave a nonchalant wave. "No problem."

With that, Calleigh nodded slightly, even though she knew Eric wasn't paying any attention. Without another word, she turned and quickly made her way out of the house, stepping out into the sunshine to wait for Jake.

But though they'd put as much distance between themselves as possible, the thoughts running through both Eric and Calleigh's mind remained synchronized on just one thought:

What on earth had just happened?


	19. Left Untold

_**Chapter Nineteen**_  
**_Left Untold_**  
-

Calleigh made it a point to leave any and all of the morning's tension behind at the crime scene. Jake didn't deserve to sit through lunch with her while she picked apart and analyzed each and every move she'd made that morning. And frankly, she didn't want to think about any of that during lunch anyway. She wanted to enjoy her lunch; she wanted to enjoy being with Jake.

And Jake certainly didn't make it hard to enjoy being with him. As he led her into the restaurant for lunch, Calleigh couldn't help the wide smile that spread over her lips. The man certainly did know how to charm her. Her favorite restaurant on the beach, a small table for two out on the deck overlooking the ocean, the way he squeezed her hand as he requested that table, the way he even pulled her chair out for her…it was just wonderful.

She was constantly being reminded of the little things about Jake that had made her fall for him all those years ago. But still, there remained the skeptical side of her, the side that argued with negative logic, the side that still resisted falling under the spell cast upon her. Jake had always been a charmer; he had always been able to make her sway on her feet.

And a younger Calleigh had given her heart to him, only to scoop up the tiny shards as he'd left it shattered on the ground. It had been the one and only time that Calleigh had ended up truly hurt. The skeptical side of her forced her to remember that more often than she would've liked. It was ten years ago. Calleigh was different. Jake was different. The time was different; the circumstances were different.

But as long as she had that skeptical voice whispering in her ear, Calleigh couldn't be sure if she could trust Jake with her entire heart. She couldn't be sure that he wouldn't do the same thing all over again; she couldn't help but wonder, no matter how wonderful it felt to be with Jake, if she was setting herself up to get her heart broken all over again. The pain had nearly killed her the first time.

Forcefully she pushed those negative thoughts away as the waitress came to take their orders. Those thoughts were not something she wanted tainting their lunch together. This was _their_ time; it was only Calleigh, Jake, and the beauty and tranquility of the blue Atlantic.

Wordlessly, Calleigh rose from her seat and stepped over to the railing, leaning on it slightly as she gazed out over the ocean. Calm were the waves, slowly rolling in and breaking almost serenely along the shoreline before they retreated once more to the depths of the sea. The endless blue seemed to go on forever, merging seamlessly with the cloudless sky at the horizon. Only occasionally was the calm interrupted by the soft call of seagulls as they soared above the ocean.

She felt his presence grow stronger behind her, bringing with it an even greater sense of calm, chasing away the very last of Calleigh's skepticisms, at least for the moment. She let out a deep, contented sigh. "I love this place," Calleigh breathed, a smile touching her lips. After a moment, she allowed her eyes to close, lingering in the feel of the warm breeze flowing softly through her hair. It was perfect; it wasn't windy enough to make her fret about her hair all through lunch, but it was soft enough to be a welcome breeze.

Her smile widened as she felt his arms loop slowly around her waist. Calleigh relaxed against Jake, feeling him gently brush his lips over her temple. "I know," he murmured, sending a shiver down Calleigh's spine.

The lunch hour wasn't quite upon them yet, so for the moment the deck belonged mostly to them. There was an older couple enjoying their lunch at the opposite end of the deck, and another, slightly younger couple a few tables away from there, but the regular lunch crowd had yet to trickle in. It was quiet; secluded, just the way Calleigh liked it.

They stood like that, together and content, until the waitress arrived with their lunch. Hungry though she was, it was reluctantly that Calleigh pulled herself out of Jake's embrace; just as reluctantly as he let her go. Taking a seat, Calleigh found herself frowning at the table, not liking the space it forced between them. She'd quite enjoyed being in his arms.

As she sat across from him at the small table, Calleigh couldn't help but study Jake closely. His eyes were focused downward, and his brow was furrowed, as though lost in unpleasant thoughts. His distraction was unsettling; something was wrong.

Although Calleigh's salad was excellent, she found it difficult to enjoy while Jake seemed to only pick at his burger. Had he been this bothered when he'd called her earlier? Calleigh didn't know; at the time, she'd been too preoccupied with pushing away her own distraction. At this point, the only thing she could do was ask. She gave a deep sigh, resting her elbows on the table as she fixed Jake with an intense, though hopefully inviting gaze. "Jake?" she asked softly. "Is everything okay?"

He didn't look up. "I'm fine," he murmured, already knowing Calleigh would see right through that. Working undercover, he'd made it through much of his adult life by telling lies, but only a few times had he ever been able to successfully lie to Calleigh. He hated lying to her; he couldn't describe the pain it inflicted upon him. But he forced himself to justify it; sometimes, there was just nothing else he could do.

"I know you better than that," Calleigh pointed out. "You can talk to me, Jake."

It was then that he finally looked up, meeting her eyes. His mind drifted back to the phone call he'd gotten just that morning; to the situation he faced. He was at the end of his rope, with only one more thing to try. Ignoring his past hadn't worked; ignoring it had only made it chase him more fervently. There was only one more thing he could think of that could put an end to this. Sure, he could always just take the assignment and get it over with, but Jake wasn't willing to risk his life again; he wasn't willing to risk what he had with Calleigh. So, the only other option that could possibly have a favorable outcome was for him to head back to New Orleans.

He had to face his old partner; the one who he'd betrayed so many years ago, back when he'd been little more than a kid and easily persuaded by fear. The truth was, Jake _had_ been little more than a kid. Both he and Sam had grown up since then; was it that impossible that Jake could make amends with his old partner?

He had to. Sam was the only other person that could possibly get Jake out of this. He pulled the strings just as much as Jake's old mentor did.

With a deep sigh, Jake lowered his eyes again, hating himself for what he was about to tell Calleigh. "I, uh, I need to head back home for a couple of days," he said quietly, rubbing his face.

Calleigh lifted an eyebrow, watching him curiously. "Back home? As in back to Louisiana? Jake, you haven't been back home since -"

"Yeah, I know," he interrupted, staring down at his plate. Any appetite he might've had before had since vanished. But why? Was thinking about what he was going to do making him anxious, or was it the fact that he wasn't giving Calleigh the entire truth?

It wasn't exactly like this trip meant anything. He wasn't going to actually _do _anything. It was a last-ditch attempt to get himself out of this mess he'd found himself in. And if he succeeded…then Calleigh never needed to know. Jake could keep his past locked up and hidden away safely, where it belonged - in the past.

And if this didn't work? Well, that just wasn't a possibility Jake was willing to face.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Calleigh. He _did._ She remained the one person that he trusted with everything. But he just couldn't tell her, not this. Not now. There was just too much to reveal, and it would be far easier if he could avoid the entire issue.

If this worked, then Jake could move on and let it go. It would never affect their relationship again. If this didn't work, then he ran the risk of losing Calleigh all over again, whether or not he revealed his past to her. Telling her now would only make things worse.

But then again, if he didn't tell her, and she found out anyway…that wasn't a possibility he wanted to face either. Why couldn't all this just leave him alone? It was a _decade_ ago.

His thoughts shifted back to the present as Calleigh spoke to him, her eyes offering him compassion and comfort; comfort that Jake knew he couldn't rightfully accept. "Is everything okay?" she asked softly.

Jake sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Yeah," he murmured. "I just…it's my dad," he lied, hating himself for it immediately. He didn't know what else he could say. Jake knew how Calleigh's relationship with her father was, and his relationship with his own father was quite similar to that. It was the one thing that popped into his mind that he knew Calleigh would understand. It was also a subject that Jake had never been very vocal about, and he knew Calleigh wouldn't question him too deeply, if at all.

Calleigh leaned forward, watching him intently. "Is he okay?"

Jake shrugged. "I don't know. He's in the hospital right now, and they're gonna run some tests, that kind of thing. It may be something, or it may be nothing, but I feel like I need to be there." With great effort, Jake forced himself to meet Calleigh's eyes, knowing all too well how important eye contact was in willing somebody to believe something. He honestly hated to do this. The compassion in Calleigh's eyes was heartbreaking; Jake knew he didn't deserve her looking at him like that. He allowed another moment to pass before he looked back down at his plate. "You know how it is with family," he added, giving what he hoped was a noncommittal shrug. "They can piss you off way too many times, but you're still there for them whenever they need you."

"Yeah," Calleigh replied quietly. A flash of pain shot briefly through Calleigh's eyes, and Jake felt the guilt stab him yet again. No doubt his comment had brought to mind reminders of the lengths Calleigh had gone to for her own family, even when they got on her very last nerve. Jake knew they were painful memories, and it tore at him that not only had he reminded her of them, he'd done so by lying to her.

Calleigh must've mistook his silence for familial concern. Pushing away her own painful memories, she reached across the table, gently brushing her fingers over Jake's hand. "Can I do anything?"

"No," Jake said, shaking his head. "I don't even know what I can do." Well, that much was true. He really _didn't_ know what he could do - about this situation, about what he was feeling more and more for Calleigh, about his past…his entire life it seemed had suddenly become this endless spiral of confusion, and Jake wasn't sure he could find the way out.

"You sure?" Calleigh asked softly. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Quickly Jake shook his head. "I wouldn't ask you to do that," he muttered, his eyes studying the scratch on the table below. In all his years of undercover work, there weren't many things he'd had to do that were as difficult as this - lying to Calleigh. Lying to the one woman who meant more to him than anything.

But could he honestly tell her the truth? Could he tell her why he was going back to New Orleans? Could he open up that much of his past right now? It was a long time ago, but it was still an open wound. Besides, would Calleigh even believe him? What would she think? What if it didn't make a difference one way or the other?

With a warm smile, Calleigh gently slipped her hand into his, squeezing gently. "You're not asking, babe," she replied softly, feeling him return her squeeze. "Just say the word, and I'm there."

It was all Jake could do not to wince at her sincerity. He knew she meant it, every word. It made it infinitely hard to keep up his own façade. But with effort, his walls remained up, thanks to his genuine fear of the _other_ outcome. "I'll be fine," he replied quietly, briefly lifting his gaze to her, praying that she couldn't see right through him.

Calleigh watched him carefully for a few seconds more. Did she believe him? She didn't know. All she knew was that Jake was bothered, and Calleigh had this inexplicable want to make him feel better. She wanted to be there for him. But sometimes, Jake could be too much like her. Sometimes, he just refused to let anybody comfort him. And so, Calleigh gave a slow nod, glancing down at her salad. "Okay," she conceded, finding herself not so hungry anymore.

So badly Jake wanted to apologize to her - for lying to her, for everything he'd put her through in the past, for everything that might happen in the near future. It tore so deeply at his conscience, leaving him raw inside.

But still his mind convinced him that he was doing the right thing for Calleigh. For them; for their relationship. He didn't want to put them on rocky ground again. Jake wasn't sure he could handle doing that to Calleigh for a second time.

He was pulled back to the present as Calleigh released his hand, leaving him missing the warmth of hers. With a sigh, she pushed her half-eaten salad away before lifting her eyes once more to Jake's. They lacked the sparkle they'd held before, but there was something else there that quieted the battle going on within Jake's mind and heart, if only for the moment. So comforted by that was he that he just barely realized that Calleigh was speaking to him. "How much time do you have?" she asked quietly, fidgeting slightly with her bracelet. "Before you leave, I mean."

Frowning, Jake glanced down at his watch. "I've got to be at the airport in a couple hours," he said slowly, hating the words as they left his lips. It sounded so sudden, but he'd been running from this for as long as he could remember. Now that it had caught up with him, the least he could do was get it over with as quickly as possible. "Why?"

Calleigh shrugged. "Because I want you to take a walk with me."

"Take a walk with you?"

"Yeah, just down on the beach," she said, a smile forming on her lips. She flushed lightly under Jake's intense gaze. "Or not," she said, shaking her head. "I know, it's a bit silly, and I've already tried to walk on the beach once today in these shoes -"

Jake cut her off. "Of course I'll walk with you," he replied softly, elated for the chance to have the extra time with her before he left. He smirked. "I was actually just wondering about that same thing; you walking on the beach in those shoes…"

Calleigh chuckled softly. "Now though I can take them off and walk," she said. "Unfortunately, I didn't quite have that luxury earlier, and it was…let's just say it was bad."

"This is a story I want to hear; you know that, right?" Jake quipped.

"You really don't," Calleigh replied, waving a hand dismissively. "It's really quite boring."

"Not possible," Jake countered, a note of finality in his voice. He gave a warm, genuine smile. "There is _nothing_ about you that is at all boring or uninteresting."

Lowering her eyes, Calleigh found she had no words with which to reply. A soft smile touched her lips in the silence, and reflexively she reached up, tucking a lock of blonde behind her ear. A couple of moments passed, the silence only broken as Jake's chair scraped against the deck. Calleigh looked up, seeing Jake rising from his seat.

He smiled. "I'm gonna go take care of the check," he said, crossing to Calleigh's side of the table. To Calleigh's surprise and delight, before heading inside, Jake paused, leaning down to press a kiss into Calleigh's hair. "Be right back," he murmured, and Calleigh couldn't help the grin that spread over her lips. It was such a sweet gesture, and Calleigh wasn't immune to the sheer feeling of contentment that infused itself throughout her entire body.

Within moments, Calleigh felt the soft warmth of the sand beneath her feet as she walked alongside Jake, her shoes in one hand, Jake's hand in the other. The sound of the ocean was music to her ears; the gentle sea breeze was refreshing as it blew against her face in sweet contrast to the feel of the heat from the sun. It all lulled Calleigh into a state of tranquility, leaving her wanting to close her eyes and merely let herself _feel_ the moment.

"You okay?" Jake asked quietly, squeezing her hand gently. She hadn't spoken since they'd left the table, and Jake couldn't help but wonder about her silence.

"Mm-hmm," Calleigh mumbled softly, giving a quiet chuckle as she realized Jake couldn't hear that over the waves. "Yeah, I'm fine," she sighed.

"You sure? You're awfully quiet," Jake pressed, biting the inside of his cheek. He hoped that, in trying to do what he felt was best for her, for them, he hadn't upset her anyway.

Calleigh paused, her footsteps ceasing. Jake stopped with her, turning to face her. "I'm sure, Jake. I'm just…thinking," she replied, shrugging lightly.

Jake took a step closer, tilting his head as he gazed down at her. "About anything in particular?"

Shaking her head, Calleigh gave a deep sigh. "About, I don't know. Everything. Nothing." She rolled her eyes at herself, knowing she wasn't really making any sense. Bringing a playful smile to her lips, she hoped to do away with the somber mood that had somehow found its way into the moment. "I don't know; maybe I'm wondering what I'm going to do all by myself while you're gone," she said, dropping her shoes gently to the sand. Her hand now free, she reached out, claiming Jake's other hand.

Jake grinned. "I guess you'll just have to find some other way to entertain yourself," he replied playfully, gently tugging her closer to him. "Even though I know how hard that's going to be…"

Calleigh snickered. "You don't think I can manage without you?" she sassed.

"Oh, I'm sure you can _manage_," Jake smirked. "You'll just be bored out of your mind…"

"Maybe so," Calleigh conceded. Tilting her head, she gave a bit of a pout. "But I'll be fine as long as you call me."

Jake smiled, losing himself in Calleigh's beautiful green eyes. "I'll call you tonight. Tomorrow night. Every night as long as I'm gone, even though I hope I'm not gone for too long."

"Me either," Calleigh replied quietly, a soft smile on her lips. Her eyelids fluttered slightly as Jake released her hand, bringing his to her face, gently cupping her chin. There were no words as he leaned in slowly, tilting Calleigh's chin slightly upward as he brought his lips to hers, softly at first, but increasing in passion as the emotion of the moment washed over him, leaving him delirious, wanting more and more.

If ever his thoughts had been more conveyed in just a kiss, Jake couldn't remember it. His lips moved slowly, sensually against Calleigh's, kissing her as though this had every possibility of being the last time he kissed her like this. His hands quickly found their place within Calleigh's hair, his fingers threading slowly through the strands as he committed the softness to memory once more.

There was a terminal feel to this moment, a nagging sensation at the back of Jake's mind. He was almost afraid to let her go; to break away from this kiss. He couldn't place it; he _knew _he would be back in a few days. He _knew_ he would see her again. He wasn't going on assignment; he was trying to keep from doing that. It wasn't like it was possible this time that he might not come home to her. He _would._ He knew that for a fact.

Still, the feeling would not be silenced. It made him even more reluctant to let her go, and so he fought valiantly against the burning in his lungs, desperate to linger in the feel of this one kiss; this kiss that, while it was almost _agonizingly_ slow, the exquisite passion that fueled it was nearly overwhelming, so unlike anything he'd ever felt while without Calleigh.

Dizziness began to tear at the edge of Calleigh's mind; a dizziness that she couldn't decide if it was caused by the lack of oxygen or from the sheer intensity of this kiss. Her arms looped themselves tightly around Jake's neck as she just knew her knees would give out any second.

But just before the fire in her lungs became far too intense, Jake slowly broke the kiss, making up for the loss of contact by tightening his arms around her. Pulling her even closer, he buried his face against her hair, breathing her in, relishing in the way she felt in his arms. She felt so good there; he never wanted to let her go. And just knowing that he had to sent a flash of pain through his entire being.

It hurt _terribly_. It was as though he bore a cold weight in his stomach, as well as a knife through his heart. Few things in his life had ever torn him apart as much as this, and, as Jake recalled, all of them had to do with the beautiful blonde in his arms.

He was Jake Berkeley. He was the best at hiding from the truth; living a lie. He was an expert at passing physical pain off as something else; he was quite adept at ignoring emotional pain altogether. But when it came to Calleigh…that shell he'd built over the years seemed almost nonexistent.

He could ignore every feeling he possessed, except when those feelings revolved around Calleigh Duquesne. And then, he was powerless.

Calleigh was the only one who got to him. She was the only one who'd _ever_ gotten to him to like this.

Softly he mumbled her name, pressing a reverent kiss into the softness of her hair. Closing her eyes, Calleigh rested the side of her head against his chest. "You okay?" she asked quietly, feeling his anxiety so clearly. Jake, with his impeccably cool, calm demeanor, was agitated. Calleigh could tell from the way he held her, from the way his heart beat somewhat erratically just under her ear. It worried her; Jake didn't usually allow anything to bother him.

He gave a deep sigh, relinquishing his hold on her. "I'm fine," he replied quietly, gazing deep into her beautiful green eyes. With a smile, he cupped her face with one hand, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I just…I'm gonna miss you, that's all."

Calleigh nodded slightly. "I'll miss you, too," she replied quietly, leaning into his touch. With a heavy heart, Jake linked their fingers once more as he pressed the softest of kisses to Calleigh's lips.

She could see the turmoil in his eyes as he pulled away, and Calleigh couldn't help wondering if maybe it was something more than what he'd told her. He'd never been that close to his father; it was one of the subjects that Jake just never talked about. And even when he was bothered, Jake generally didn't let it show; for him to let it show, he would have to be deeply affected.

In the logical, skeptical side of her mind, Calleigh knew there was something that didn't add up. It was a nagging, annoying voice; for now, it was the last voice that Calleigh wanted to listen to. She didn't want to think; she just wanted this moment.

But Calleigh knew that, even from the less skeptical side of her logical mind, this moment couldn't last forever. She still had work to do, and Jake had a plane to catch. The minutes were quickly ticking by, falling like sand through her fingers. With a deep sigh, Calleigh glanced down to their hands, tightly woven together. She didn't want to let go just yet, but she also wasn't sure when Jake needed to go. "Do you want to head back yet?"

Jake thought for a moment. He didn't _want_ to head back, not ever. He didn't want to leave her. "Nah, let's keep walking," he replied, adoring the smile that broke out on Calleigh's lips as he answered. He felt his heart flutter within his chest; there really wasn't anything more beautiful than Calleigh when she smiled.

"Are you sure?" Calleigh asked. "I don't want you to miss your plane or anything," she murmured. Even though she was pleased with his answer, the last thing she wanted was for him to be delayed because of her.

With a slight nod, Jake pulled her close once more, unable to resist dropping one last, soft kiss to her lips. He squeezed her hands, smiling as she returned the gesture. "I've got time, babe. I've got time."


	20. Into a Corner

_**Chapter Twenty**_  
_**Into a Corner**_  
-

Despite the fact that New Orleans was easily much farther north than Miami, it always seemed to Jake that the weather was far more oppressive, far more unbearable in the Louisiana city, and this time was no exception. He hadn't been back there in ages, but he'd known exactly what to expect before he'd ever stepped out of the air-conditioned airport three days ago.

It was a more stagnant heat than in Miami; it lingered heavier in the atmosphere, plastering itself stickily to everything. As if the heat itself weren't bad enough, the humidity was crushing. It was all Jake could do to breathe.

Inside the prison walls, the heat and humidity were a hundred times worse. Or maybe it wasn't; maybe it was just Jake's apprehension that gave him such a sense of discomfort. He paced back and forth in the tiny stone room he had been shown to, tugging irritatedly at his collar. The short locks of hair at the back of his head had plastered themselves to his neck, sticky and uncomfortable.

For three days he'd paced around his tiny motel room, trying his best to ignore the sweltering heat. He'd thought he'd had a plan, but once Jake had arrived, he'd realized that he had not a clue of what he could do. Back in Miami, everything had seemed so clear in his head – go to New Orleans, catch up with his old partner and strike a deal with the older man; a deal which would save both Jake's personal life and his professional life.

But as he felt his optimism and energy crushed by the rising temperatures, Jake realized a little too late that it might not be as easy as he'd hoped. He couldn't expect Sam to be quite that forgiving; he couldn't expect Sam to change his story, to say that it had all been a mistake, just like that.

In Jake's life, nothing had ever been simple, and he knew he couldn't expect it to start being simple now.

So for three long days and three long nights, Jake had racked his brain, searching for something, anything that might work in his favor, the only break he allowed himself being the very first night when he'd called Calleigh.

He missed hearing her sweet voice. But even though he knew he could call her at any time, something held him back. Was he afraid that she would discover his lie? Partly, yes, but mostly Jake just couldn't take the pain that came along with lying to her. Her sympathy, her compassion over the phone that night had been so real, so palpable, and it had torn Jake to the core. Why had he _ever_ thought that lying to her would be a good idea? It only caused him the deepest internal anguish, and, should she ever find out, it would only hurt her as well.

At least one thing seemed to have gone his way, though. To his luck, once he'd finally found the nerve to make his way inside the prison, some of the security officials had recognized him, having worked with Jake all those years before. That made the entire process just that much easier on him. He had no trouble setting up a private visit, due in part to his knowing the prison officials personally, as well as Jake's many years of being a cop, and his old partner's good behavior.

And now, he was playing the waiting game. Sequestered away in a small, stone-walled room, all Jake could do was wait for Sam to be escorted to the room. He had no idea what to expect; after all, he hadn't seen his old partner in several years. Tapping his fingers on the hard tabletop, Jake waited patiently, taking the time that remained to further organize his thoughts, trying to ignore the sharp ticking of the clock in the corner as it counted down the seconds, seeming to grow louder and louder as time drew on.

But just before the noises and the heat drove him out of his mind, the door came open to reveal two officers, leading Jake's old partner into the room. His time inside had changed him; his headful of sandy blonde was visibly thinning, accented here and there with tinges of grey. The livelihood had gone from his face; what remained was a cold pallor, disguising the once jovial face. And in his eyes was a darkness that Jake could only confess to have seen a few times in his life. He could barely repress the shudder that threatened to overtake his body as he met those cold eyes.

The officer on Sam's left cleared his throat, gaining Jake's attention. "You're sure about this, Detective Berkeley?"

Jake gave a slight nod, glad to focus his attention elsewhere, if only for a short moment. "Yeah," he replied confidently. "We'll be fine. We're just gonna talk."

The accompanying officers glanced to each other, but both of them seemed to accept that. "Alright. If you need anything, we'll be right outside the room. When you're done, you can just walk out and we'll take care of the rest."

"Thanks," Jake murmured.

With a quick nod of acknowledgement, the officers left once again, the door closing securely behind them. As soon as they were fully alone, Sam's lips curved into an evil grin, sizing Jake up as he took his seat on the other side of the table. "Jake Berkeley..."

Jake sighed heavily. "Sam."

"Been a while, huh?" Sam asked conversationally, settling back into his seat. He appeared quite comfortable compared to Jake, whose posture was stiff, his eyes unreadable. "I had a feeling I might be hearing from you soon. To what do I owe the pleasure?" he added, the sarcastic lilt in his voice all too recognizable to Jake. That, coupled with the hard look in Sam's eyes, didn't do much to further Jake's encouragement.

Sam knew exactly what Jake wanted, having been the one to mastermind this entire ordeal. Without Sam's word against Jake, Devon's threats were unsubstantiated. His mind flashed back to the afternoon that Devon had shoved that manila envelope into Jake's arms. In it was a packet detailing the assignment Jake was being forced into, and at the very back of that packet had been a copy of what exactly Sam had told Devon about that night in the alley, so many years ago. In a resentful rage, Jake had ripped that page right off of the packet, tearing it to pieces before angrily tossing it in the garbage.

At the moment, the three of them were the only ones who knew what had really happened. But it wouldn't remain that way for long. If Jake didn't fix this one way or the other, his career would be over. His life would be over. And that was why he was in New Orleans. Jake needed to somehow convince his old partner to let bygones be bygones. He'd been silent for all these years, hadn't he? Why did he feel compelled to speak out now?

"You know why I'm here," Jake said, wishing he'd brought that manila envelope with him. He'd barely even begun, but already was the bile rising at the back of his throat. It would be easier if he could just point and stare, instead of actually having to speak. But as it was, that file remained where he'd left it, back in Miami. Jake would have to struggle his way through this. "You and Devon are blackmailing me."

To Jake's immense dismay, Sam barked out a harsh laugh. "I'm not blackmailing you. Devon is. I'm just providing the truth. That's the only part I have in this. That's the only part I care about; I don't care what Devon does with the truth, nor do I care what happens to you as a result," he added bluntly. "Although, I must say that I don't see what your problem is," he added as a curious afterthought.

A little stunned by Sam's apathy, Jake couldn't help but take his words defensively. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam rolled his eyes, as though the answer should've been obvious. "Devon offered you an assignment, did he not?"

"More like he forced it on me, but yeah."

Sam gave a sigh of exasperation. "Look, Berkeley, you and I didn't work undercover together for very long, but from what I've heard, you've never turned down an assignment."

Jake scoffed. "It certainly wasn't because I didn't want to," he retorted. "I tried twice to get out. Twice."

"Well, I don't know anything about that," Sam replied dismissively. "I just know what Devon offered you, and for the life of me I don't understand why Jake Berkeley, who laughs in the face of danger, would possibly turn it down. You used to live for this stuff."

Jake couldn't help but fidget slightly. "Well, Sam, there are other things in life that are more worth living for," he admitted quietly.

"How sentimental," Sam replied mockingly.

Forcing himself to ignore Sam, Jake continued. "It's why I transferred out to homicide. There's just too much uncertainty in the UC life, and it's not a gamble I want to take." Despite his control, Jake felt his anger begin to bubble up within him. He shouldn't even be here. He wasn't an undercover agent anymore; he was a homicide detective. And, contrary to what he might've felt years before, in homicide was where he wanted to stay. "I don't even understand why you guys can still hold this over my head. If you really wanted to, you and Devon could have me formally charged, but you can't make me take on another assignment, since I'm not UC anymore. I legally transferred. I filed the paperwork; I took the necessary tests. I've been a homicide detective for months."

"Yes...and no," Sam replied cryptically. "You see, there was, well, an error..."

"An error?" A cold weight suddenly dropped into Jake's stomach; he didn't like this sound of that.

"Yeah, in your paperwork. Apparently you did something wrong, which doesn't surprise me," Sam smirked.

Jake was confused. He felt as though he'd been led around in nothing more than a circle, not gaining anything useful. "So why didn't the Miami-Dade PD contact me? Since, you know, it was there that I transferred to. How the hell did Devon get a hold of anything of mine?"

"I don't know!" Sam snapped, obviously irritated. "I'm the bad guy, remember? That's why I'm locked up. Obviously I'm not the one running around the police department, trying to hunt out things to use against you. You always did ruffle feathers; maybe you pissed somebody off in Miami, and they just happened to be the one to process your transfer papers. I don't know, and I don't care."

"So then, instead of letting me fix whatever I did wrong, Devon decided to exploit it," Jake muttered bitterly.

Sam pursed his lips. "You know Devon; exploitation was always one of his specialties." He leaned forward, fixing Jake with his cold gaze. " Miami might not realize it; they always were rather slow down there. But technically, you're still one of us. So yes, Devon _can_ present you with an assignment. But you could always turn it down, you know," he pointed out, an odd glint in his eyes.

For the moment, Jake decided to ignore that. He still had other questions that needed answering. "Well, why me?" he asked, tilting his head. "Why does this particular assignment have to be offered to me? Why not somebody else?"

Sam gave him a long, hard look. "You want the honest truth?" he asked after a moment, knitting his fingers together in his lap. Jake didn't reply; instead, he gave a curt nod. Sam leaned even closer, looking firmly at Jake from the other side of the table. "You read the file, right? You know this is a little more dangerous than your usual case."

"Yeah, I kind of realized that," Jake growled. "That's why I need to know, why me?"

Sam hesitated for only a moment. He almost felt bad for Jake; sure, years before, Jake had easily betrayed him, but they were still partners. They'd still been through many cases having to rely on one another. Sam felt almost as though he were throwing Jake out to the dogs in order to save his own skin.

But then again, hadn't Jake done the exact same thing to him? So really, it was just karma. Jake would have it coming anyway, whether or not Sam did this. He gave a deep sigh, forcing any and all conflict away from the front of his mind. "Why you? Because frankly, Jake, Devon sees no need for you."

Jake shivered, feeling as though ice water had suddenly been infused into his veins. The words were vague; there were several different things that Sam could mean by that, but Jake couldn't help the feeling of fear, of apprehension that fell over at him at his words. "What do you mean?" he asked, forcing the shaking out of his voice.

Sam exhaled heavily as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Like I said, you're still one of us. But you've pissed off a lot of people, Jake, Devon included. He would be all too happy to release you and never have to deal with you again. You're stubborn. You're an ass. And you're only out for yourself."

Jake narrowed his eyes, unable to keep from digging his nails into his palms as Sam spoke. He bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to remain silent.

"But people were willing to look over that," Sam continued, scratching the back of his neck. "Because you were a good UC. You got in, got the job done, and got out. You didn't waste time. You were fresh blood to the force; we needed you, no matter how many feathers you ruffled. But then you went too far. In this job, we're all brothers. You don't turn your back on your brothers."

"What was I supposed to do?" Jake argued indignantly, barely able to keep himself seated. "They had me locked in that stuffy interrogation room; they were goading me over and over again to say something. They _knew_ that I knew, Sam! They knew, and they..." Jake trailed off, unable to repress a shudder. He remembered exactly what had happened that night.

He could still feel the cold table beneath his fingertips; he could still hear the angry yells of the interrogating officer. He had kept quiet the entire time; there was no way he was going to give up Sam. He'd known what Sam did, having watched the whole thing. He'd had no intentions of giving in.

Until the interrogating officer slammed his hand down in front of Jake. Jake had been startled, his eyes wide. But the real shock came as the officer smirked and slowly lifted his hand from the table.

On the table before Jake was a photograph of Calleigh. Her sunglasses were perched atop her blonde head as she window-shopped, a tiny smile gracing her lips. Any words spoken in the next few moments went through his ears in a blur. _How had they gotten this photograph? Were they following Calleigh? And why? She had no part in this; what did she have to do with this?_

Whether she was truly ever in danger at that point in time, or if they had just used her as his weakness, Jake would never know. As soon as the first veiled threat was lobbed against Calleigh, he crumbled like sand. His partner, or Calleigh? Jake couldn't even imagine making the other choice. Sam was his partner, but Calleigh was...Calleigh was everything.

"I know what they did," Sam said, breaking Jake out of his thoughts. "I would've done the same, had they threatened to go after the woman I loved. But that's not the point." Sam's gaze hardened. "You told the truth; just not the whole truth. You were just as much a part of this as I was. You gave me up and saved your own ass."

Jake stared defiantly into Sam's hard, dark eyes. It was an accusation he couldn't deny. He'd been little more than a kid back then; his entire world consisted of himself, Calleigh, and the job. It was fear which drove him to the decision he'd made; fear of losing everything he'd worked for, of losing Calleigh. He'd been driven by fear at the time, but given the chance, Jake wasn't sure he'd do anything differently. If he had, he might not be where he was now, although in retrospect, that could've been both a good thing and a bad thing.

But he'd be the first to admit; he'd rather be here in New Orleans now, than to be at home, without his past breathing down his neck, but also without Calleigh beside him.

"I did what I had to do," Jake admitted quietly. "You said it yourself; you would've done the same."

"The difference is that I wouldn't have let you take the fall completely by yourself."

The silence that fell over the room at Sam's admission was oppressive, almost as oppressive as the heat and humidity in that tiny space. Sam made it sound so easy, but how could Jake ever know if he was being honest? How did Sam know that he wouldn't make the same decision if he were put in Jake's position? There was just too much speculation; too much that they would never know.

The one thing that Jake did know, however, was that nothing could be changed now. "It doesn't matter what I did ten years ago," he began quietly, arriving slowly at the crux of this visit. "That's all in the past. All that can be changed now is the present."

Sam shook his head, refusing to let Jake convince him to let this go. "Listen, Berkeley, it's as easy as this. You do this, or you don't do this. I can't do anything to make that choice easier for you."

"You could," Jake snarled. "You just don't want to. This is your idea of revenge; you just want to expose what I did so I'll lose everything, just like you."

Sam shook his head, chuckling lightly. "That's not it at all. Your past doesn't have to be revealed to anybody, regardless of what I do or don't do. If you do this one assignment, everything goes away. Your past, what you did, what you didn't do. That all goes away. You'll never hear from us again. But then again, if you don't do this, then your best hope is that you're found guilty of being an accessory to murder." Sam gave a cold chuckle. "Knowing Devon, though, it's more likely that he'll push for felony murder."

All the color had drained from Jake's face. This was nothing he didn't know, but somehow, having it all spelled out for him made it real. "I didn't kill anybody." He'd meant it to sound firm, threatening; but the voice that left his lips carried an unmistakable shake of fear.

Sam smirked. "That's right; you just covered it up, didn't you? And by no means should you be punished for that," he quipped sarcastically, rolling his hard eyes.

Jake swallowed the ever growing lump of anxiety in his throat. He had told himself that this would be simple; that he wasn't in as big of a mess as Devon had made it out to be. Had he dug a hole that he couldn't get out of after all? He raked his fingers through his damp hair, realizing too late that the sweaty locks would end up sticking out all over the place, but unable to find the desire to care. "I was a rookie back then," he said slowly, ever mindful of the way the temperature seemed to rise with his unease. "A kid. I was scared to death that night. That man…he was the first person I ever saw killed. I panicked. I was scared of the repercussions, the entire justice system, you…I was afraid of everything. I – I didn't know what to do." Jake paused, shaking his head helplessly as he relived the memories in his mind. "I mean, I know what I should've done –"

"And what's that?" Sam interrupted, lifting a questioning brow. "Reported me? Turned me in, like you did anyway?"

"If I'd done that, I wouldn't be in this position now," Jake realized aloud.

"But _I'd _still be here. See, Berkeley? You _still_ would've only thought of yourself," Sam scoffed, crossing his arms. He turned his head to the side, staring defiantly at the dull grey wall.

"Maybe so," Jake replied angrily, clenching his fists at the assumption. That wasn't true. That night, over a decade ago, Jake had been confused. He'd made his decision without a clear head, in essence getting himself more into trouble than out of it. But every night since then – the couple of nights that he'd slept on the couch in order to hide his nightmares from Calleigh; the days that he wanted so badly to confess everything to her, but didn't because he didn't want his burden to fall upon her shoulders; the night that he'd finally crumbled under pressure and confessed to watching Sam kill that innocent man, but not to his own involvement – all of it he'd done with Calleigh at the very front of his mind. "Maybe so," he repeated, fighting to keep his anger under control – it wouldn't do for him to lash out at Sam.

He racked his mind, trying to think of something he could use to his advantage. "But not you, Sam. You were always better than that. Everything that happened that night aside, you were always the kind of guy who would've gone back to help the enemy instead of running away to save yourself."

Sam turned his head, his eyes once more fixed on Jake's. "Where are you going with this?"

"You were never a vindictive person. Why now? Why me?" Jake paused for a moment, although he didn't really expect an answer from Sam. Like he'd guessed, his only answer was a terse silence. "It was only you and me that night," he continued. "Nobody else knows what really happened, least of all Devon and the rest of the force. You didn't speak up back then; what's in it for you now?"

"What do you think, Berkeley?" Sam scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "There's a deal on the table. If I take it, then I'm out of here after eighteen more months. But if I don't take it; if I don't agree to offer my testimony against you, should it even come to that, then my life sentence stands. And damn it, I've spent far too long locked up within these walls. I want out."

"Yeah, well, I wanted out of UC," Jake retorted, narrowing his eyes. "And yet, here I am."

"Indeed."

Jake gave a deep sigh; it had begun to finally sink in that he was getting nowhere. This entire visit had been in vain, and Jake was going to have to go home and make the very choice he'd come here to get out of. He thought of Calleigh, of putting her through the same things he'd put her through in the past, and the heartache that hit him from merely the idea of it was terribly intense. He couldn't do that to her without tearing his own heart to pieces. "Sam...look," Jake tried once more, nearly pleading him to see his point. He was at the very end of his rope. This wasn't ten years ago; this was now. Everything was different. " I can't - I can't do this. I've got a life now; I've got things that I never thought I'd ever find. I've got somebody - somebody I really care about."

Sam gave him a long look. "You know, ten years ago, I did, too, Jake. I did, too."

**..**

Hours later found a frustrated Jake pushing open the door to his motel room with one hand, a bag of fast food in the other. He'd been famished earlier, but now, as the smell of the fries reached his nose, it only made him nauseous.

His plan hadn't worked, and now he was out of options. Now he had a decision to make, both of which would probably harm his relationship with Calleigh. And Jake had felt backed into a corner before…

Bitterly he tossed the bag of food on the table, not even caring as it skidded off and into the chair. He wasn't hungry now anyway, and even if he was, Jake couldn't possibly eat in here. It was at least twenty degrees hotter in the room than it was outside, and Jake would swear that, if anything, the heating/cooling unit was only pumping even more heat into the room. He'd wanted to find a cheap motel so he could pay with cash instead of a credit card, but he'd thought that even the worst motels would at least have working air. No matter what he did, Jake couldn't get any cool air into the room, and he'd stopped trying as the unit had begun to protest loudly, the noises proceeding to keep him up for much of that night. But for as little as he was paying for it, Jake was lucky that there wasn't more wrong with this room.

Irritated, Jake stalked his way over to the window, jerking the curtains closed with more force than was necessary. Keeping them closed did nothing for the temperature inside, he knew that, but he had no desire to gaze at the sky outside. The room faced westward, and Jake had a perfect view of the setting sun outside. Any other night, if he were in Miami, perhaps on the beach with Calleigh in his arms, Jake knew he could've watched that sunset all night. But here, the last thing he wanted was to see the pretty pinks and purples as they faded slowly into the deep navy of night. Tonight, he just wished the darkness would hurry up and take over the sky.

He tugged at his collar for what might've been the thousandth time that day, pulling it away from his neck, feeling suffocated by it. His shirt was soaked with sweat, plastering itself fully to Jake's skin. Sticky all over, Jake knew the only way he'd feel any better at all was to stand beneath the spray of a cold shower. The thought was inviting, and even if the water here did make him feel somewhat grimier than he'd felt before, at least it was indeed cold. So Jake trudged into the bathroom and started the spray of water in the shower, looking forward to simply being able to stand beneath it.

Making a face, Jake peeled his sticky shirt upward, tugging it over his head and dropping it to the floor below, where it fell with a damp, dull thud. The rest of his clothing quickly followed, and with a sigh of relief, he stepped beneath the cooling spray, feeling immensely better as soon as the cold water began flowing over his hot, sticky skin.

He felt almost like a different person by the time he turned the shower off and stepped out, lightly toweling himself off. In lieu of putting on more clothes that would just grow sticky and sweaty in no time, Jake opted simply to wrap a towel around his waist. A second towel he quickly ruffled through his hair, not even bothering to fix the unruly strands that stuck up damply in its wake. A few stray droplets of water fell down upon his bare chest, and Jake swiped at them lightly with the towel before it too fell in a rumpled heap on the floor.

Satisfied, for now at least, Jake stepped out of the bathroom and flipped on the light, his eyes immediately alighting on his phone on the bedside table. Flopping carelessly onto the bed, he grabbed the phone and opened it, the display letting him know that he had one missed call – Calleigh.

Seeing her name started the guilt rushing through him again, having not called her since the first night he was here. Overtaken with the intense need to hear her voice, Jake dialed the number he knew by heart, his heart jumping in his chest as she answered, her soft voice music to his ears. "Hey," he greeted softly. "It's me."

A slow smile spread over Calleigh's lips; she'd been so disappointed when he hadn't answered his phone earlier. "Hey, you," she replied softly. "Where've you been?"

Jake raked the fingers of his free hand through his still damp hair. "I was in the shower when you called…"

Calleigh gave a quiet hum. "I hadn't heard from you in a few days, and I was just wondering if everything was okay." She paused. "If _you're_ okay."

"I'm fine," Jake replied quietly. "I've just been busy; that's all. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Calleigh assured him, and Jake found himself honestly wanting to believe her when she said it was okay. But the truth was, everything in his life wasn't okay. He closed his eyes, wishing desperately that he was lying in bed at home, with Calleigh snuggled tightly in his arms. Then, and only then, would everything be okay.

But when he opened his eyes again, he found himself back in his motel room, feeling his back already protesting at the way he'd collapsed onto the bed. He started to move, to perhaps prop himself up with another pillow, but he paused as Calleigh spoke again, asking the question Jake dreaded answering. "How's your dad doing?"

Jake cringed, once more reminded of the lie he'd told her. "He's, uh, he's doing better," he lied, every single word that left his mouth painfully stabbing into his heart. "He was optimistic earlier; watching TV and joking around."

"Well, that's good," Calleigh commented, switching the phone to her other ear.

"Yeah." Jake fidgeted slightly with the frayed edge of the towel around his waist. "The doctors still wanna run a few more tests, but if they don't find anything, they're gonna send him home in a couple of days."

"Hmm. So you'll be home soon after that?" Calleigh asked, flinching as she realized just how selfish her words sounded. She missed Jake terribly, but she'd feel even worse if she felt she was keeping him away from his family when they needed him.

Jake didn't seem to mind, though. "Yeah, I'll be home in a few days, most likely." Eager to change the subject, he forced his mind back to the conversation they'd had the last time they'd talked on the phone. "So how did your crime scene come out?" he asked, referring to the one that Calleigh had left when he'd taken her to lunch earlier in the week. She'd gone back to work afterward, and Jake had heard some of her frustrations about it that night on the phone.

Calleigh's smile faded and she hesitated as the conversation moved into uncomfortable territory for her. "I, uh, I switched cases with Natalia the other day, actually."

Jake couldn't help but snicker. "Calleigh Duquesne, backing down from a challenge?"

"I did not back down from the investigation," Calleigh protested haughtily. "A different case came up that day, and Horatio wanted a more senior CSI on it than Natalia. So we switched; simple as that." It was a truthful answer, but Calleigh left out the fact that she had _asked_ to be put on that case. Horatio, knowing that Calleigh had cases of her own, had offered to supervise Natalia as she worked it instead of giving it directly to Calleigh, but Calleigh had insisted, all too happy to change cases. The very last thing she'd wanted was to go back to that house at the beach.

She hadn't wanted to put herself back in that position again; that position with Eric. That was a bit of lost control that she needed to put behind her and not run into again. As it was, she'd been haunted by it that night in her dreams; the scene occurred just as it had in the house earlier, but in her dream, her phone never rang. In her dream, Eric had kissed her; she'd felt his lips moving against his, and while her mind yelled at her to stop it, to push him away from her, Calleigh found herself kissing him back, the tiniest of moans escaping her lips as Eric pushed her fully against the wall. And it was as his lips trailed away from her lips and down over her throat that she opened her eyes, panting slightly as her gaze focused over Eric's shoulder, to the doorway where Jake stood, the most heart-wrenching look in his gorgeous dark eyes…

And it was at that point that Calleigh had bolted awake in a cold sweat, gasping for breath as her heart raced in her chest. It had only been a dream, likely caused by her internal conflict, as well as the events of earlier, but that didn't ease Calleigh's mind. For the rest of the night she'd tossed and turned, feeling herself overtaken by an overwhelming sense of guilt. She'd finally drifted into a restless sleep about an hour before her alarm sounded, but to her relief, the dream hadn't repeated.

Jake's voice calling her name pulled her away from her thoughts, and she shook her head, attempting to clear it. "Yeah?"

Jake chuckled. "I thought I'd lost you there for a second," he commented.

"Nah, I'm still here," Calleigh replied with a small smile. "I'm just tired, I guess. And I want you to come home."

"I want to be home," Jake replied softly, meaning the words with everything in him. He missed her so terribly, and the sooner he could be home to hold her, the better. And even though it had only been a few days, Jake missed her so badly it hurt. A tiny smile touched his lips as he caught the tail-end of a yawn from Calleigh's end of the line. "I hate to do it, but I'm gonna let you go so you can get some rest, okay?" He didn't like the idea very much; he would rather keep her on the phone all night. But he didn't want her to be tired the next day either.

Calleigh sighed. "Okay. I'll see you in a few days, right?"

"Hopefully, yeah," Jake replied softly. For just a moment, he allowed a comfortable silence to fall between them as he simply listened to her breathing. His heart ached, wanting nothing more than to be with her right now. "Calleigh?"

"Yeah?"

Jake's breath caught in his throat as his heartbeat increased its pace inside his chest. "I, uh…" he began, but hesitated. He knew exactly what he wanted to say to her; the words had spelled themselves out so clearly in his mind, not to mention upon his heart. But he just couldn't manage to bring those words to his lips.

Was he afraid? Or did he just not want to say them over the phone? Whatever the reason, Jake knew for a fact that it wasn't because the words weren't true. He _knew_ they were.

But still, he couldn't lend his voice to them, so instead, he forced himself to settle for the next best thing, though it was a world away from what he truly wanted to say. "I miss you, Cal."

They weren't the words he'd wanted to say to her, but at least this time, they were the truth.


	21. Crushing Pain

_**Chapter Twenty-One  
Crushing Pain**  
-**  
**_

_The sun was quickly setting in the western sky, fading away once more as the dark of night was ushered in behind it. Calleigh had the most perfect view of the slowly darkening sky, and on any other night, she might've appreciated the beauty of it._

_But tonight, all it signified was another day gone by. It was a beautiful sight, and Calleigh certainly did have wonderful memories attached to watching the sun set, but for the past few months, the setting sun has represented nothing but crushing pain. Her entire life, her entire being has represented nothing but crushing pain._

_In the beginning, Calleigh had been able to handle this, no problem. But then again, in the beginning, Jake had never been away for more than a few days, a couple of weeks at the very most. Calleigh had been able to distract herself with work, with shopping on the weekends, or with, her favorite activity while he was away, planning the perfect way to welcome him home._

_But as time went on, and Jake's assignments became longer, more dangerous, Calleigh found herself sinking into a bit of an unavoidable depression. If she could keep busy, then she was fine. But not even she could work four straight shifts without collapsing, and after the first night that she crashed at work, her supervisor began sending her home after every double shift, much to Calleigh's dismay._

_With less work came fewer ways to distract herself from her thoughts, and the longer that Jake was gone, the less she could concentrate on welcoming him home because her mind became so saturated with thoughts of him hurt, or worse. She knew it wasn't good for her to worry about him all the time, but it just wasn't something she could turn off. If she ignored the thoughts during the day, she would only dream them at night._

_And soon the worrying began taking not only an emotional toll on her, but it began to affect her physically as well. It began with the churning in her stomach, which at first she passed off as a bout of food poisoning. But it didn't go away after a few days; instead, it only grew more intense. The nausea killed off any desire to eat. She was losing weight, she wasn't sleeping, and she looked and felt terrible._

_But as soon as Jake would return home, all of that lifted. He always seemed to come home just before Calleigh reached her breaking point._

_The problem was, every time she avoided it, that breaking point became farther and farther away, leaving Calleigh to fall farther and farther each time Jake left._

_She accepted the vague answers, the lack of contact, even the lies as part of his job. It was all part of what he did for a living. But what she couldn't accept was the downward spiral she tumbled through each and every time he left her alone._

_She was letting it kill her, even though she knew she was stronger than that._

_Eventually, she was going to break. It was merely a question of what was going to break – her heart, or her resolve._

_Her light green eyes slightly glazed, she gave a deep sigh as the final sliver of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon. It was what it was; another day without a phone call, another day without his presence, another day without any word at all. Calleigh could only hope and pray that, wherever Jake was, he was alive and well, and on his way home. Until then, the days would pass as heavily as this one, giving way only to sleepless nights._

_And Calleigh wasn't sure how many more sleepless nights she could take. She needed to be able to fall asleep wrapped in his arms with the promise of waking up there as well. Until then, there was no way she could hope for a full night of restful sleep._

_Vaguely her mind was penetrated by a sharp ding from the microwave, letting her know that tonight's bland TV dinner was done, but Calleigh made no move to retrieve it. These days, eating was something that Calleigh merely went through the motions of; something she only put the bare minimum of effort into. She knew it was dangerous; she knew she was slipping back into the same behavior that always seemed to overtake her whenever Jake disappeared for too long, but despite knowing what it was doing to her, she still couldn't stop it. She didn't want to eat, nor did she ever seem to feel hungry. And besides, eating only served to upset her already worried stomach._

_But the fact remained that, in order to function, Calleigh had to eat, meaning every night was filled with those tasteless, not-so-filling TV dinners; dinners that Calleigh still only choked down about half of._

_With a resigned, heavy sigh, Calleigh crossed to the microwave, barely able to find the effort to pull her dinner from it. As soon as she pulled back the cover on the tray, the scent hit her nose, sending her stomach into convulsions. Bowing her head, Calleigh closed her eyes tightly, willing the nausea to pass._

_It didn't, not completely, but after a moment Calleigh was able to stomach the thought of eating again. Briefly she speculated that perhaps her nausea was actually brought on by the content of the food, and not the idea of eating. It was the same thing every night – mashed potatoes that tasted vaguely like cardboard, a small serving of corn that only really looked like corn if Calleigh left the tray in the microwave for just the right amount of time, and the main course, a couple of pieces of chicken that tasted like no real chicken that Calleigh had ever eaten._

_But still, she couldn't bring herself to pick out anything different. She couldn't bring herself to actually cook anything either; that would bring back way too many painful memories. So it was this TV dinner, or nothing._

_Silently Calleigh picked up the tray and began heading toward her dining room. Eating at the table was more habit than anything; it would be far less painful to eat her dinner on the living room couch, but the idea of dropping crumbs into the cushions and attracting ants wasn't a thought she wanted to entertain._

_What also wasn't preferable was the path Calleigh had to follow to the dining room. It gave her a perfect view of the foyer, the front door; and Calleigh couldn't help the hopeful way she gazed in that direction every single night, wishing nothing more than to see him walk through that door._

_It was something she just couldn't give up on, no matter how long Jake was gone._

_With a heavy sigh, Calleigh forced her feet to continue carrying her to the dining room, halfheartedly dropping her tray of food down on the table. As she took a seat, she couldn't bring herself to ignore the obvious – this just wasn't right._

_Closing her eyes for a moment, Calleigh allowed her mind to take her back once more to a night that felt almost as though it were an eternity ago. But unlike most memories, instead of fading over time, this was a memory that only grew clearer, more intense with each day that passed. She was there so viscerally in her mind. She could still see the soft light of the candles of the table, filling the entire room with such a warm, inviting glow. She could still sense the warm, slightly vanilla scent of those candles, a scent that mixed wonderfully with the mouthwatering aroma of the elaborate dinner before her. And across the table from her was the reason for her bubbly happiness – Jake. There was nothing like losing herself in Jake's deep chocolate eyes by the glow of candlelight. The way he looked at her already made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, but somehow this went even beyond that._

_Calleigh had done so well in moving past her childhood, but she couldn't deny that it was nights like this that remnants of her past came back to haunt her – she couldn't help but feel somewhat undeserving of Jake's…love? Calleigh wasn't sure if she would call it that yet, not this early, but it was certainly something. Whatever it was, he absolutely knew how to make her feel like a princess._

_It hadn't been any sort of special occasion, that night. It was just Jake's idea of the perfect romantic seduction. And perfect it most certainly was; he'd somehow managed to slip away from work early in order to make it home and take his time making Calleigh's favorite dinner, complete with a delectable dessert. It was affectionate teasing between them - that if for nothing else, Calleigh would have to keep him around just for his cooking. The man was a master in the kitchen._

_The rest of the memories from that night followed in a flood, sending the most exquisite shivers through her entire body, just as had happened that night. His fingertips, his lips, the most passionate, breathtaking kisses; the feelings, the shivers…Calleigh had never felt so treasured._

_But it was a double-edged sword; those were the memories that made her miss him even more when he was gone; those were the dreams that had her awakening in the middle of the night, his name on her lips. And this was the longest he'd ever been gone. It truly hurt to have to eat dinner alone every night, to go to bed alone every night, to wake up in the mornings wanting his arms around her so badly. It was taking such a deep toll on her heart._

_And she didn't even know how many more nights of this she was to face. It could be days, it could be weeks. Or it could be months, like it had already been._

_There was always the possibility that she may never see him alive again. If there was anything that could put a stop to her heartbeat, it was that thought, and it was getting harder and harder to keep that thought out of her mind._

_Calleigh honestly didn't know how much longer she could put herself through this._

_Was there a point where she would finally have to draw the line? And just where was that point? Had she already passed it, or was she creeping closer to it with every night?_

_How many more beautiful nights could she spend with him, only to spend the same number of nights alone? How many more lonely dinners could she suffer through? How much longer could she put herself through this physical and emotional torture?_

_In the end, it all came down to one truth. Calleigh had a decision to make. Wait for him, or walk away from him?_

_Was being with him worth the crushing pain?_

**..**

"It's not the same."

They were the four words that left Calleigh's lips in a defiant whisper every time those thoughts tried to creep into her mind. It had first started to hit her, two nights ago as she sat down at the table with only a bowl of soup for company. She'd ended up pouring most of that bowl of soup down the drain in disgust. It was amazing how quickly long-forgotten habits could return to a person in their entirety, even after a decade had passed.

But Calleigh was stronger than that this time, and, as she kept telling herself, it _wasn't_ the same. There was no way she was going to let herself slip so far backward, not again.

For starters, Jake wasn't in danger. He wasn't in _any_ danger. He wasn't getting involved in his old lifestyle again; he wasn't doing anything that might get him killed. He was perfectly fine; he was just in New Orleans with family. He would be coming home any day now. Jake was _fine_.

There was absolutely no reason for the slight feeling of unease that had fallen over her. It was only barely noticeable, usually only making itself known to Calleigh when she had nothing else to distract her, but it was there nonetheless. She couldn't explain it, either. The only reason she could come up with for it was that it had been a few days since she and Jake had spoken. A few days ago, he'd said he'd be home in a few days, and as far as Calleigh was concerned, a few days had passed.

She knew what part of the problem was – Calleigh just didn't like not knowing. It was what had nearly killed her all those years ago, not knowing if Jake was alive or not, or if he was ever coming home to her. And now she was remembering how that had felt, albeit on a much smaller scale. She knew he was fine; she just didn't know when he was coming home, and in her opinion, he should've been home by now.

Surely that was what was making her anxious. It couldn't be anything else…could it?

Feeling the sudden vibration of her phone at her hip, Calleigh pushed away those negative thoughts, bringing herself back to the case at hand as she answered it. The week before, she'd managed to successfully avoid Eric after the moment they'd shared during the investigation at the beach house, but that case had since been closed, as had the one Calleigh had switched to. It hadn't been long before she and Eric were once more paired together. It hadn't been as awkward as she'd been afraid it would be, but that didn't mean she was as comfortable working with him as she'd once been either.

Listening to the details – Eric had returned from the scene and was getting ready to try and find a decent fingerprint from a piece of evidence – Calleigh gave a quiet sigh, knowing she was going to have to face him sooner rather than later.

It seemed all too soon to her that she was standing just outside his lab, hesitating with her hand on the door. Why the hesitation? Was she afraid to be alone with him? Or was it that she just didn't want to be alone with him? It wasn't something Calleigh really wanted to find the real answer to. Pushing all of that from her mind, Calleigh took a deep breath and pushed her way into the lab.

But her hesitation followed her inside, and she stood in the doorway for a moment, merely watching the man before her. Concentration ever present over his features, Eric was unaware that she'd entered the lab. For a moment, Calleigh hung back, merely watching him. His forehead was creased in thought, his lips moved slowly as he muttered under his breath. His steady hands worked over the evidence before him as he tirelessly searched for the fingerprint that would put a quick close to this case. Calleigh couldn't help but smile as she watched him; he was completely absorbed by the case.

Her smile became somewhat wistful as she realized that Eric reminded her of Tim. Outside the lab, Tim would often make light of his work, declaring it just a paycheck; but when he was in the lab, he became one of the most dedicated coworkers Calleigh had ever worked with. Tim would get lost in the task before him, aware only of the evidence before him, himself, and the music that flowed from his headphones into his ears.

Calleigh nibbled at her lip, bowing her head just slightly. It had been three years, but the occasional thought of Tim still tugged at her heart. She didn't think she would ever be able to think of him and not miss him terribly.

Pushing that from her mind, Calleigh let out a breath, putting a cheerful smile on her face as she stepped fully into the lab. "Hey." The smile that touched his lips as he glanced up was genuine, and Calleigh couldn't help feeling a slight surge of guilt. Eric was honestly happy to see her, while Calleigh had been avoiding him as much as she could. "What've you got?" she asked, tugging on the sleeves of her lab coat, forcing herself to ignore any feelings that weren't strictly professional.

Eric cleared his throat, gesturing to the scope on the table. "I found a partial on a piece of stray broken glass near where the body was. It's not much, but it's something. Take a look." He moved out of the way, granting Calleigh access. He closed his eyes as she passed; despite everything, the scent of her perfume still weakened his knees. His heart fluttered as she tossed her hair over her shoulder before leaning down for a better look.

While her eyes were occupied, Eric couldn't help letting his gaze wander over her. The stiffness in her posture didn't go unnoticed by him, and he couldn't help but feel badly, figuring that he was the cause of it. He hated that Calleigh felt so uncomfortable around him; it tore his heart into pieces. It had seemed they were finally getting back to the easy relationship they'd had before, but then Eric had made one mistake – maybe a mistake for her; but for Eric it had felt natural, and if not for Calleigh's phone ringing, he _would've_ kissed her – and they were back to square one.

His eyes lingered on the silkiness of her hair, his fingers itching to reach out and thread themselves through it. Tucked behind her ears, it did nothing to obstruct Eric's view of her face; he could see so perfectly how she pursed her lips thoughtfully, clearly wondering the same thing about that partial that he'd been wondering moments before.

All he was doing was standing there, enjoying the rare opportunity to gaze unabashedly upon her beauty, wishing he could do more than just appreciate it from afar.

And then it hit him. Straight out of nowhere, at the most inopportune time. It began with a slight tingling, just behind his ear. At first, it was merely a nuisance, something Eric figured would pass if he ignored it.

But instead of fading away, that slight tingle exploded into a blinding, raging headache. It had only happened a couple of other times like this; the first one occurring a week after getting out of the hospital. It had happened first thing in the morning, and Eric would've sworn he was dying; it was that intense. He'd been a little more than dismayed when his doctor told him later that day that the occasional intense headache was to be expected. The only good news was that over time, they should occur less and less. And they had; but when they did happen, the pain was just as debilitating.

Slowly, Eric turned away from Calleigh, determined not to let her see. The last thing he needed was her worrying whether or not he could do his job, again. Letting out a deep breath, he leaned over the opposite counter, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles began turning white. Inwardly he groaned. _Not now…_

Calleigh's attention remained solely on the partial before her. It was barely even enough to consider a partial, and getting a hit from AFIS was going be almost impossible. "There's not much there at all," she murmured.

"Yeah, I know," Eric mumbled. It had been the only print he could find, though; all the others had merely been smudges. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, setting his elbows on the countertop so he could rest his head in his hands.

"I don't know if this is even going to get any hits on AFIS," Calleigh continued. Straightening up, she glanced over her shoulder. "Are you sure you couldn't – Eric?" Her voice carried a tinge of worry, and Eric knew that she'd realized he was in pain.

He didn't reply. Part of him wondered if maybe she just thought he was upset with himself for not finding a workable print. If he could pass it off as that, then he'd be okay. But something told him that there was no way Calleigh would believe that. He also knew that she wouldn't take his silent hint and leave him alone to work through the pain. He knew she wouldn't leave him, not after seeing him like this, unless she knew he was okay. But for now he couldn't think about that. He couldn't think about anything. Keeping his eyes tightly closed, he concentrated on breathing. _In and out…in and out._ By now the pain was as bad as it usually got, and all Eric could do now was wait for it to pass.

"Eric?" Calleigh called again, the concern in her voice now unmistakable. He felt her hand along his back and he sighed, the soothing circular motions already drawing his attention away from the pain in his head. "Eric…"

"I'm fine," Eric muttered, not moving. He lifted his head, turning his gaze to her. He could only hope his eyes weren't watering too noticeably from the pain.

Calleigh tilted her head, looking directly into his pained expression. "Are you lying to me?"

"Like it's something you've never done to me?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he cringed. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

Calleigh bit her lip, though her hand didn't slow its motion along his back. As much as his words stung, they were, in all honesty, fair. But this was bigger than that; something was wrong with Eric, and that scared her to death. "Come on, you can tell me," she coaxed softly, forcing herself to ignore his previous accusation. "What is it, Eric?" Her heart raced as he watched his hands clutch at the back of his head.

"It's nothing. It'll pass."

Calleigh shook her head, and Eric knew immediately that she wasn't going to believe him. "Listen, Eric. I want you to go lay down, okay?" The last thing he needed was be working if, as she suspected, his head was hurting so badly. The bright lights of the lab and the amount of concentration he was forced to have couldn't be helping him. Calleigh knew; she'd gotten the occasional migraine in her life, and the only thing that helped those was lying down in a dark, cool room. And those migraines didn't compare with the pain it seemed that Eric was feeling.

"Cal -"

"I'm serious," she interrupted, her voice stern, but her eyes revealing nothing but the deepest concern. "I want you to go lay down in the break room. I'll run the print through AFIS and see if it's even enough for a positive match." Eric tried to protest, but the effort it took even to think of what he could say caused the pain to shoot through his head with a vengeance. Instead he groaned, still reluctant to give in to her request. Calleigh sighed, wishing he'd pick some other time to be stubborn. She realized that, were the situation reversed, that she would probably be just as stubborn, if not more so. But this was different. Calleigh couldn't deny that she was honestly afraid. She'd kept a fairly close eye on Eric after he'd first gotten shot, and she'd never seen him like this. "Eric, if you never listen to anything else I say, just listen to me now and go lay down. Please."

Eric gave an exasperated sigh. Her concern was sweet, really. It was just…he didn't want to be fussed over. How was he ever going to prove he was getting better if people were constantly at his back? "Calleigh, I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"Eric, you have a bullet in your brain," Calleigh pointed out softly. Eric scoffed; as if he didn't already know that. "A headache is never going to be just a headache." Again Eric was silent, and Calleigh sighed. He wasn't budging. Calleigh would have to play her last card. "If you don't do this for me, I swear I will go get Alexx."

Eric stared at her for a long moment. Calleigh he could argue with, and while he probably wouldn't win anyway, he had a better chance of winning an argument with Calleigh than with Alexx. He let out a defeated breath and straightened up, pulling off his gloves. "Fine. You win. I'll go lay down." He forced a grin, trying to make the situation seem less serious. "But you'd better find me a match for that print."

Calleigh smiled. "You got it," she replied softly, watching worriedly as he turned to leave the lab. Her eyes followed him down the hall until he was completely out of her sight.

Her mind immediately filled with questions. How long had his head been bothering him? Was that normal? Why had he never said anything? Why hadn't she ever noticed? Was he deliberately trying to hide it from everybody? From her?

They were questions that plagued her mind from the moment he left the lab, through the time it took to scan the print into the system and start it running through AFIS. And then the waiting game had begun; there was no way Calleigh would be able to sit there and wait for AFIS to find a match, not while she was this worried about Eric.

Finding someone else to watch for AFIS to find a match, Calleigh pulled off her lab coat and her gloves and immediately headed toward the break room. She made it there in almost record time, and as she quietly stepped inside the dark room, a small smile touched her lips. She could just make out the form of his body stretched out upon the couch, an arm over his eyes. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, and Calleigh only whispered his name, just in case he'd dozed off. "Eric?"

Eric stirred, lifting his arm from his face as his eyes came open. "Cal…"

Calleigh smiled softly, making her way over to the couch. "I didn't want to wake you if you were asleep," she said, kneeling beside the couch. "How's your head?"

"It's getting better," he replied quietly, meeting her warm gaze completely. "Still got a ways to go, though."

Calleigh pursed her lips. "Did you take something for it?"

"It's fine, Cal, I swear," Eric said with a smile, trying to convince her. "It comes and goes. It's nothing. And it doesn't happen nearly as often as the doctor warned me it could." He paused, taking the opportunity to prop himself up slightly on his elbows. "It hasn't bothered me this badly in months, actually. I'll be fine once it passes completely."

"Are you sure?" Calleigh asked, still not sure she was convinced.

Eric chuckled. "Trust me. I've felt worse." He winked, once more calling on a bit of sarcastic, dry humor. "Bit of advice? Don't ever get shot in the head."

Calleigh shook her head, biting at her lip. "Come on, Eric, please don't joke about that," she said quietly, her eyes to the ground, as though trying to hide the pain and fear his statement had reawakened in her. "You almost died."

With a sigh, Eric reached out, gently tilting her chin upward again with his thumb. "I didn't, though. I'm fine. I promise." He held her eyes until she nodded. Her concern didn't fade, though.

"How long has it been bothering you?" she asked quietly.

"On and off. Like you said; there's a bullet in my head. The doctor said I'd get headaches occasionally. I just have to…deal with them. They're not usually this bad, thankfully." Eric smiled once more, enjoying the fact that it came more easily now that his headache was indeed beginning to fade. "So, what about my print? Did you find anything in AFIS?"

Calleigh gave a half-shrug. "It's running through the system right now. I would've waited for it, but I, uh, kind of wanted to check on you…" her voice trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed that she'd actually told him that. "I was worried."

"Well, I'm sorry I worried you," Eric murmured, instinctively lacing his fingers with hers. "And I want to thank you, too."

Calleigh swallowed, staring at their entwined fingers. Her heartbeat had accelerated; her flight instinct was kicking in, telling her to flee as fast as she could. But she couldn't make her hand pull away from his; she seemed frozen to the spot. "For what?" she whispered, aware of the tiny shake in her voice.

Eric smiled. "For caring. I know I gave you a hard time back there…"

Biting her lip anxiously, Calleigh gave a short nod. "Always," she murmured. It was then that she made her final, fatal mistake. She allowed her eyes to be drawn back to his, and from there they couldn't stray. The intensity in his brown eyes was overwhelming; it literally took Calleigh's breath away. "Eric…" she breathed, her eyes betraying her and falling closed as Eric's free hand came up, brushing her cheek. His touch sent a chill through her body, but it was confusing. Was it a chill of delight? Or was she feeling chilled because this was forbidden? Because she wasn't supposed to be feeling anything for him?

Just as the moment became too much for her, Calleigh's eyes fluttered open once more to meet his unwavering, dark gaze. She felt the jolt within her – this wasn't right; the only movement she should be making was to get out of that room as fast as she could. She felt the pounding inside her chest; heard the frantic yelling within her. But her body ignored that something within her, even though what that something kept screaming was a vehement _no_. Instead of pushing away from him, Calleigh only felt herself draw closer to him.

Flashes of the dream she'd had flickered before her eyes; she could see Eric, mere inches away from her, she could see his eyes close as her own closed as well. She saw her lips connect with his; she saw his body pressing her into the wall.

And she could see Jake. Just as clearly as she'd seen him in her dream; the hurt in his eyes just as apparent. She could see him, clear as day, and sharply it stabbed at her heart.

But her body was on a completely different wavelength. Calleigh couldn't stop the way she leaned into him; she couldn't stop the way her hand tightened its hold on his. She just couldn't stop that overwhelming pull. One moment, she was gazing into his dark eyes, her emotions completely and utterly confused, lost.

And the next moment, her body pushed her further into the realm of the forbidden as she leaned in even closer, her lips pressing firmly against his.


	22. Losing Control

_**Chapter Twenty-Two  
Losing Control**  
-**  
**_

_Striations. Focus on the striations._

It had become her mantra for much of the afternoon. Usually, she wouldn't even have to tell herself to focus on the striations, on the bullets, or on the mechanism of the particular gun. Usually, it just came naturally to her.

But usually, she could escape from anything in her ballistics lab.

Today, there was nowhere she could hide. She couldn't escape from her guilt, from her pain, and Calleigh knew there was really no use in trying. The guilt would follow her wherever she went.

For the remainder of her day, Calleigh had locked herself away within her ballistics lab, throwing every last fragment of her energy into casework. When she'd run out of current cases to work on, she pulled some of her old cases back out and went over every little detail, even though she'd been more than certain that she hadn't made a mistake before.

No mistakes in her casework; no, the only mistake she'd made – recently, at least – was the mistake that she was trying to force away from her mind. Just when she'd think she was making progress, his face would once more slip into her mind, catching her so completely unaware.

She could still feel it all, almost as though it were happening again right this very second. She felt the chill run the length of her spine, leaving behind only the most viciously unsettled feeling. It happened every time she'd finally become immersed in her work – her mind would once more shift its focus from bullets and trajectories, to Eric. His lips against hers, not once, but twice. The feel of his hands wherever they happened to be at the time; clasping her hand, gently cupping her chin, or softly stroking her hair. The look in his eyes; the desperation in his voice as he tried to persuade her not to go. And then, finally, there was the sinking realization of what had just happened. The very scene in her dream that she'd dreaded happening _had _happened. Jake might not have been there watching, but Calleigh had still kissed Eric, and it would hurt Jake should he ever find out. Calleigh had far too quickly found herself in the very situation she'd tried so hard to avoid.

With an annoyed sigh, Calleigh slammed shut the file on the table in front of her. There was no way she could work like this, not when her mind and emotions were jumping all over the place. Despite the pile of casework that still needed to be completed, she knew there was no way she could concentrate on that anymore tonight; for tonight, she was done. What she needed to do was go home and sort through her own thoughts. Only then would she be able to even begin trying to work out the motives of a killer.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Calleigh let her imagination drift to the pleasures that awaited her at home. Just simple pleasures, really, and not really the one she wanted, but they would do for the time being. A bit of soft, soothing music, a warm bath, the softness of her bed…maybe once she got home, Calleigh would be able to leave the day behind.

It was the most favorable idea she'd had all day, and giving up for the night, Calleigh pulled her lab coat off, ready to head home.

Some quiet _alone time_ was exactly the thing she needed. Maybe then she'd be able to look at her emotions with a clear head.

**_.._**

_As she broke the connection that had been forged between their lips, Calleigh's eyes remained closed, letting the moment fully pass. Her lips were tingling from where they had touched Eric's, and for a moment, all that existed was Calleigh and the feelings that kissing Eric had awakened within her._

_And then she slammed into the ground. Suddenly, Calleigh was bombarded with the feelings that the kiss had silenced. They came back to her in full-force, more prominent than before, for as now they were accentuated with guilt. Guilt, remorse, confusion…_

_What had she done?_

_Honestly…she didn't know._

_Had she given into feelings that had always been there? Or had confusion driven her to betray the feelings that were truly there? Feelings aside, there was one thing that Calleigh did know – with one kiss, she had betrayed Jake. It had merely been a kiss, and it certainly could've been far, far more than that, but that didn't do anything to ease Calleigh's mind._

_Jake had lied to her. He had hidden the truth from her. He had forgotten to call her more than a few times. He had been involved in a number of sketchy activities during his years of undercover work. He had left her home alone, her only companion the constant worry and nausea that always set in whenever he would leave. But he had never, ever been anything less than completely faithful to her. When he was with her, Jake was hers._

_And now, Calleigh had betrayed that loyalty on her end. The knowledge had her frozen to the spot, unable to move for fear of once more making a mistake. Her eyes closed, she needed a moment to process her actions before she could look Eric in the eyes._

_For Eric, the kiss had ended far too soon, and his eyes had come open in confusion. He'd not gotten the chance to savor it, but the disappointment melted away as his eyes found Calleigh before him, her eyes closed, her lips slightly pursed as though deep in thought. She was adorable, and all Eric wanted to do was lean forward and recapture her lips._

_The moment her lips had touched his own, Eric felt the entire world stop around him, not to mention his heart. He could never be sure how many times he'd dreamed of this, but now that it had happened; now that he'd actually tasted the sweetness of her lips, he knew that the dreams, however beautiful they were, could never compare._

_And when Calleigh didn't move, that was exactly what he did. His free hand came to rest on her cheek, his thumb gently caressing the softness of her skin as he moved forward, once more bringing their lips together in the softest of kisses. Whether by instinct or by want, or if Calleigh even realized what she was doing, Eric didn't know, but her head tilted just slightly, allowing him easier access to her mouth. A curtain of blonde fell loose from its place behind Calleigh's ear, brushing against Eric's knuckles as softly as feathers. It was merely the slightest touch, but to Eric it felt exquisite. Unable to resist, Eric let his hand disappear into her golden locks, feeling the silky strands thread between his fingers as he gently drew her closer to him, wanting her as close as possible. He never wanted to let her go._

_As amazing as the soft kiss was, Eric couldn't help but want more. He wanted to really taste her; to see if the sweet mix of soft vanilla and something uniquely Calleigh that he could almost taste in his dreams lived up to the real thing. But as soon as he found the nerve to deepen the kiss, Calleigh stiffened._

_She pulled away from him almost abruptly, and as Eric's eyes opened, he saw that hers once more remained closed, though this time her forehead was wrinkled in confusion and her lips were drawn into a thin line. It was at this point that Eric knew she had finally realized what had just happened._

_It was one of the most tension-filled moments of his life. Calleigh's facial expression did not indicate pleasure, causing Eric's heart to sink in his chest. But still, Calleigh did not pull her hand away from his. Her fingers remained tightly entwined with his, although Eric did perceive the slight tremble in her hand._

_Removing his fingers from her hair, he brushed his knuckle against her cheek, desperately needing her to look at him. He needed to see those beautiful green eyes. Swallowing the lump that had formed within his throat, Eric licked his lips, finding himself almost dizzy as he still tasted her upon them. It was almost too much for him, and he shook his head, needing Calleigh to react to what had happened. "Cal…" he whispered._

_Ever slowly, Calleigh's eyes fluttered open, revealing not what Eric had wanted to see. He'd wanted to see want, enjoyment, pleasure; he'd wanted to see that wild playfulness that he knew Calleigh possessed. He'd wanted to see some kind of indication that she was going to kiss him again. But mostly, he really wanted to see that disarming sparkle in her eyes._

_But that sparkle just wasn't there. In her eyes he saw something that he'd seldom ever seen in Calleigh; Eric saw fear in her eyes, and that scared him. He saw the weight that had just settled upon her shoulders; the guilt over what she had done. He saw confusion that stemmed from the kiss. He saw the pain of unwilling betrayal; he could see it in her eyes that right now, she was thinking of Jake._

_It was like a bullet to his heart._

_He watched her eyes, watching as her gaze darted from his eyes, to their hands, to the door, before finally her chin dropped, her eyes intently studying the floor below. "That shouldn't have happened," she murmured, her voice barely loud enough to be heard, although to both it sounded far louder than the deafening pounding within each of their chests. "I'm sorry…"_

_"It's okay," Eric mumbled, his gaze falling to where their fingers remained linked. If anything, her grasp on him had only tightened, but Eric was quick to convince himself that it didn't mean anything. Her other hand was clenched tightly as well, and Eric knew that it was part of her steeling herself; it was part of regaining the control which she had lost._

_Calleigh didn't reply, although her mind was screaming just how not okay this was. She should have never given into whatever it was within her that wanted to kiss Eric. She'd been able to work beside him for years, and not once had she ever felt that urge. Why now?_

_She couldn't answer that. She just knew it wasn't right, nor was it fair._

_Letting out a few deep breaths, Calleigh attempted to stave off the panic that was threatening to consume her. She had just kissed Eric. At work. After she had sent him to lie down; after he'd given her quite a scare in the print lab._

_She had kissed Eric._

_Something had taken a hold of her; she'd given into instinct. He was so close to her; she'd been so relieved that he was going to be okay, and it had just…happened. Somehow, she'd found herself kissing her best friend; betraying her own boyfriend._

_That knowledge sent an unwelcome chill down her back. What would Jake think? The dream she'd had a few nights back once more materialized at the front of her mind, and Calleigh couldn't help but flinch. Would Jake be as devastated as he'd seemed in her dream?_

_The thought affected Calleigh more than she would've thought possible, and any attempt she'd made to chase away her panic quickly began to fail. She felt her breathing quicken; she felt her heartbeat become erratic. She felt the control once more slipping away from her, and at that point she knew she had to get out of there._

_She had to get away._

_"I'm sorry, Eric," she repeated, shaking her head quickly as she struggled to pull herself to her feet. "That shouldn't have happened…" She tried to pull her hand away from his, only to find that Eric wouldn't let go. "Eric…"_

_"Don't do this, Calleigh," he murmured, looking at her, his eyes almost pleading. One, two kisses, and Eric had no idea what he would do if he could never kiss her again. He was already addicted. _

_Calleigh breathed deeply, avoiding his eyes. "Please, Eric. Let it go," she entreated quietly, unsure what exactly she meant. Let go of her hand, or let go of all this? Or both? She just didn't know._

_He murmured her name softly once more, but Calleigh continued to avoid his gaze. He knew she was determined in what she wanted right now; nothing else would do. Eric had no choice but to let out a sigh, reluctantly releasing Calleigh's hand from his grasp._

_She was finally free, just before the remainder of her control slipped from her hands. Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, Calleigh made a speedy escape from the break room, not even once looking back._

**_.._**

It wasn't early with regard to her shift, but it was early in terms of how late Calleigh sometimes stayed at the lab. Calleigh used to always stay a little while after her shift had ended; it was her way of finding closure for whatever case she was working at the time. It was part of who she was; she couldn't make herself go home and get some rest if she knew there was more she could be doing right then with a case. Calleigh hated leaving anything unfinished; she needed to find a definitive stopping point.

It was something she'd been doing less and less since Jake had come back into her life; when she had him to go home with, leaving the lab right as her shift ended didn't seem to bother her as much. Like Jake told her, her shift was over. Why spend every last bit of her free time working?

But that was when Jake was around to distract her from the cases that she'd left unfinished. When Jake was gone, Calleigh couldn't just forget about them and go home; if she were spending her evening just sitting around her apartment, alone, Calleigh couldn't help but feel as though she were doing a disservice to the victims by going home on time. Logically, she knew it was a bit irrational, as the cases would still be there in the morning with little or no change, but Calleigh just couldn't help it.

So tonight, she wasn't surprised when Paula had lifted an eyebrow as Calleigh had clocked out earlier than usual. Brushing off the receptionist's concerns, Calleigh simply kept her eyes low, citing a stomachache.

It wasn't _exactly_ untrue. In fact, it was closer to the truth than it ever would be to a lie. The dull ache deep in her stomach had intensified so greatly during the day that Calleigh knew that that the smallest trigger would have her darting to the restroom, overcome with nausea.

The smallest fraction of relief washed over her as finally she pushed her way through the front doors, knowing that if she could make it home, she wouldn't be startled by every little noise she heard, because she wouldn't think it was Eric. She had spent the greater part of the day hearing nothing but the usual sounds of the lab, and yet, each time she heard one of them she glanced around fearfully, just knowing that Eric had found her hiding place. It was outrageous, the effect that one, small mistake could have on one's entire daily routine. That kiss had thrown her entire day out of whack, and all Calleigh wanted to do was go home and slip into bed.

But first, she had to get there.

At the bottom of the steps, Calleigh paused for a moment, closing her eyes as she allowed the soft night breeze to blow over her, wishing she felt half as calm, half as tranquil. But the storm inside her would not be quelled, and, shoulders slumping slightly, she let out a deep breath, ready to head home. With heavy steps, she began to make her way toward Jake's car, the thought occurring to her once again that she needed to hurry up and buy a new one of her own. Life was unpredictable; Calleigh had no way of knowing how long she could keep using Jake's.

And tonight, she dreaded even opening the door of it. She knew what would happen, and sure enough, as she slipped slowly into the driver's seat, Jake's unique scent washed over her, imprinting her guilt upon her heart even further. She felt so close to him, but so far away at the same time. Calleigh wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around her right now, but she couldn't even allow herself to imagine it, knowing she didn't deserve it, not after what she'd done.

Still, the need was too much to repress, and with a sigh, Calleigh pulled her phone from her purse, her fingers automatically punching out the number she knew by heart. She wanted to hear his voice; she needed to talk to him. She didn't know why, but she needed to know that he was okay. Part of the reason her emotions were so out of control was due to the inexplicable worry that had settled over her. Something was wrong; she just _knew_ it. Why else would she not have heard from him?

But rather than relieving her worry, calling Jake only intensified it, as he never answered the phone. Calleigh gave a deep sigh, letting her eyes fall closed in disappointment as the familiar greeting of Jake's voicemail filled her ears. "Hey, Jake," she said quietly, resting her forehead lightly on the steering wheel. "It's me. I haven't heard from you lately. I hope everything's okay. I miss you, and I…" She paused for a moment, letting out a deep breath. "I just wanted to hear your voice, that's all," she finished softly. Once more the guilt rose within her, and Calleigh couldn't help but feel like Jake already knew what she had done.

Calleigh made the familiar drive to her place completely on autopilot, unable to keep her mind from wandering as she drove. Luckily, traffic was minimal tonight, and Calleigh didn't try to stop those thoughts, no matter how troubling they were.

Her mind drifted back through time, to a particular case that seemed eons ago, yet also felt as though it had merely been yesterday – the Peter Kinkella case. It had been only weeks before that Jake had come crashing back into Calleigh's life; at that point, she'd had no idea where the two of them even stood. She'd had no idea if the sparks that'd existed between them so long ago would still be there.

And, at the time, she had honestly doubted it. It had been over a decade. Both of them were older and wiser, and Calleigh knew that as time went on, what people wanted generally changed. Calleigh didn't want the life she'd left behind…that was _why_ she'd left it behind.

But as Calleigh was discovering more and more every day, there were just some things that couldn't be left behind. When she had seen the picture of Rebecca Roth and her apparent boyfriend, her apparent boyfriend who just happened to be none other than Jake Berkeley, Calleigh hadn't been able to stop the jealousy that surged up and through her body. What was Jake doing with her? Why? And most importantly, why did it bother Calleigh so damn much? After all, _she'd_ broken up with _him_ ten years ago, hadn't she?

That was beside the point, as Calleigh forcefully reminded herself. The point now was that, even though she had been jealous what she'd seen on the tiny phone display, it hadn't meant anything, even if it hadn't been any of Calleigh's business to begin with. The bottom line was that, while it hadn't meant anything at all, Calleigh had been hurt by it.

And now, Calleigh had kissed Eric. It wasn't just for pretend; it hadn't been a ploy for any kind of case. It had been a real _kiss._

She'd done the one thing that she knew for a fact that Jake had never done to her. She knew that, and it hurt her almost as much as she knew it would hurt Jake.

Why had she kissed Eric? Why couldn't she just write it off as a mistake and let it go?

Why hadn't Jake called her? Why wouldn't he answer his phone? Why couldn't he just come home?

The questions just continued to form in her head, and she wanted nothing more than to stand outside and scream them to the night. But Calleigh possessed more decorum than that.

Instead, she vented her frustrations in another way, something she'd never dared to do as a child for fear of her father's wrath. As she stepped out of the car, Calleigh forcefully shoved at the door, her ears craving the loud, angry slam. But it was a sound that never came, and Calleigh just barely kept her temper as she realized that the door hadn't closed at all. Instead, it had bounced open again, after hitting something that had fallen between the door and the car itself.

Rolling her eyes slightly – after all, slamming doors did seem a bit childish – Calleigh pushed the door closed, her eyes falling quickly to the driveway below. Lying in the driveway was what had hindered the door from closing before.

It wasn't something Calleigh had even realized was in the car with her. Curious, Calleigh bent down to take a better look. On the ground lay a manila envelope, the top opened, allowing the papers to spill out and scatter on the pavement. Under the cover of darkness Calleigh could make out little more than Jake's name on the envelope.

Gathering the papers in her arms, Calleigh brought them inside with her. She could tell they were important, even in the dark, and she was sure that Jake needed them. He'd probably just left them in the car by accident; whatever they were, he'd probably forgotten all about them.

The feeling of unease, however, had returned in full force to her stomach. But why? Calleigh was home; if anything, it should've dissipated, but it seemed to only intensify. This time, it was almost a sense of foreboding, almost as though she knew that something was about to break.

But, similar as it was to the feelings she'd endured all week, Calleigh pushed it away as she pushed her way to the kitchen, carelessly hitting the lightswitch, blinking as the bright lights hit her eyes.

Setting the envelope on the counter, Calleigh's every intention was to sort the papers, to put them back in order before she replaced them in the envelope for Jake. Jake might not care, but Calleigh prided herself too much on her organization skills. She couldn't just stuff those papers back in the envelope after they'd scattered on the pavement like that.

She'd thought they were merely case notes.

She'd thought they were just files that he had to study before testifying in court or something like that.

And as Calleigh slowly realized what they truly were, she felt as though the entire world were beginning to crumble around her. The papers weren't case notes; they weren't files from a recent homicide. They weren't even from the Miami-Dade PD.

It was like a slap to the face from the past. As Calleigh read on, she gripped the papers tightly in one shaky hand, while the other hand held the counter so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her knees shook beneath her, threatening to give out at any moment. Her heart just simply refused to believe what she was seeing; it refused to acknowledge the truth.

Because to acknowledge the truth would fully shatter her heart.

Jake had lied to her. He'd told her he was done with this. He'd told her he'd transferred over to homicide; that his undercover past was exactly that – the past. How long had he been lying to her? How long had he been working undercover this time? Was this the first? Or had there been others before this?

As she continued to read, she felt herself growing more and more lightheaded. Jake had lied to her; maybe it was just the once, or maybe he'd been lying to her since the beginning. It didn't matter in that moment; because Jake had still lied. She breathed in deeply, but found herself unable to bring in any oxygen. It was as though the wind had been knocked out of her.

Her stunned green eyes continued to skim over the words before her, each one forcing another dagger through her heart. _Undercover operation...many years spent building this case… infiltrate…deadly drug cartel…dangerous…extreme risk…volatile atmosphere…not to be held liable for any serious injury or death…_

The words began to swim on the paper in front of her before fracturing completely into vague remnants of letters before her very eyes. Her mind had shut down, but Calleigh didn't need her mind to comprehend the meaning of this. It was as though her chest had been caught in a vice-like grip; she couldn't breathe, and every beat of her heart seemed to reverberate painfully against her ribs. Both echoed louder and louder in her ears, almost to the point of being deafening. Every breath, every heartbeat was magnified tenfold in her ears. Not only did the room begin to spin around her, it was as though the walls had begun closing in on her. She was being suffocated.

The corners of her eyes prickled with the tears that threatened to form, serving to blur her vision even more so. But it was too late; she'd already seen everything she'd needed to see. Jake had lied to her…possibly about _everything._

And suddenly she just couldn't stop it. It hit her like a wave, the nausea she'd pushed back and ignored for most of the day. Her stomach just couldn't take any more of this; the guilt and regret from earlier had compounded with this sheer pain, heartbreak. And it had finally become too much for her to handle emotionally.

Calleigh could no longer pretend that she was physically okay; she could no longer keep the physical and the emotional separate. One by one the papers fell from her shaking hands, aimlessly littering the kitchen floor. But bending down to pick them up right now would be a mistake; Calleigh knew her knees were about ten seconds away from giving out on her, not to mention that she could already feel the acid prickling the back of her throat. Her mouth felt like cotton, and even through her closed eyelids she could see the world spinning around her; and more than that, Calleigh could feel it.

Forcing her shaky legs to move, Calleigh turned and stumbled her way out of the kitchen and through the dark hallway, one hand flat against the wall as her guide. Even if she had taken the time to turn on the lights, she still wouldn't have been able to see anything, not with her vision so blurred and the dizziness taking over her.

Pushing her way into the bedroom, the same scent that had inundated her in Jake's car earlier washed over her once more, and that was it as far as her stomach was concerned. Calleigh staggered into her bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet just in time.

It seemed an eternity later that Calleigh was finally able to think clearly again. Sitting on the cool tile floor, she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them as she desperately tried to put an end to her trembling. Flushed were her cheeks; moist were the corners of her eyes, and Calleigh knew she was a mess right now, a far cry from her normally calm, controlled self. It had been over a decade since the last time she'd let herself fall apart like this, and if her emotions and feelings weren't already exhausted, Calleigh knew she would've been embarrassed at herself.

When had she let everything get so far out of control?

It was yet another question that Calleigh couldn't answer. Coming unraveled wasn't something that happened quickly to her; it had to have begun a long time ago. But when? Had she started losing it when Jake had come back into her life? Or had it been even longer than that; over a decade ago when she'd first met him? Or, had it been when she'd first come to Miami, or when she'd first met Eric?

The questions just would not stop coming, and inevitably they led her back to the scattered papers that still littered her kitchen floor. If Calleigh looked back into their past, she knew it wasn't something that should surprise her; Jake, lying. But it did, it honestly did. Had she been foolish in thinking this time might be different? And just how long had he been keeping this a secret?

But more importantly, where was Jake now?

It was all coming together now. Why he hadn't called her as often as he'd said he would; why he hadn't made it home when he'd said he would. And Calleigh couldn't help the way her heart clenched; she knew Jake wasn't particularly close to his family, but to use them as an excuse not to tell Calleigh the truth? That was cold. Calleigh had been genuinely concerned for his father, his family; when the truth was that Jake probably hadn't even spoken to them in who knew how many years. It hurt that he'd lied to her; it hurt _terribly_.

And _why_ had he lied to her? Was it because, in typical Jake fashion, he'd searched for the easy way out and found it by lying? Was it because he didn't trust her? The thought sent a fresh stab of pain through her heart; did he honestly, really not trust her, after she'd spent a night sharing the darkest secrets of her childhood with him? It had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done, and now, for whatever reason, he couldn't show the same trust in her. Had she taken that leap of faith, only to realize too late that she'd jumped off that cliff alone?

Closing her eyes, Calleigh let out a shaky breath, unable to stop the darkest of thoughts from forcing their way to the front of her mind. She was just too tired to fight them.

What Jake was doing. His career path. His unfulfilled promises. His dad's health scare. And possibly so many more of the words that had left Jake's lips.

All of that had been a lie.

Was their entire relationship based solely on lies too?


	23. Rising Doubts

_**Chapter Twenty-Three  
Rising Doubts**  
-**  
**_

_The minutes seemed like days as Calleigh sat motionless, her reddened eyes focused blankly ahead. The sterile, stark white of the walls unnerved her, leaving her feeling confused, lost. There existed only a single door, closed to the outside hallway, and there were no windows through which the sunlight could shine. The only illumination came from the artificial, florescent bulbs in the ceiling._

_Just before Calleigh began to wonder where she was, her eyes alighted upon the single framed picture on the wall, a photograph of the outside of the building, the caption beneath it reading Dade-Memorial._

_Oh. So she was at the hospital. But why?_

_As soon as the question had even begun to cross her mind, the room dissolved around her, and a silent cry left Calleigh's lips as her chair, as well as the floor beneath it, was pulled out from under her, and quickly she found herself thrust into a different setting._

_Now she was in a house, complete with windows and doors and real sunlight. Plus, she had her kit with her, she had gloves on her hands, and there were bullets on the ground just waiting to be collected. This was certainly more comfortable than the dreary hospital._

_And here, Calleigh wasn't alone._

_A smile came upon her face as her gaze landed on her companion. Her companion, her best friend, her everything. And, as of three weeks and six days ago, her husband. Just the thought was enough to widen her smile, and Calleigh gave a wistful sigh. She was still in that blissful honeymoon phase, and at this point she was growing more and more convinced that it would never end._

_And really, that was perfectly fine with Calleigh._

_Her companion lifted his head, and Calleigh could feel his attitude shift slightly. She could almost see his ears perk, and she tilted her head quizzically. "What is it, sweetheart?" she asked, closing some of the distance between them._

_He turned to her, pursing his lips thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Nothing…"_

_Calleigh grinned; why did he try that? He knew she could always see right through him. "Come on, babe," she coaxed, playfully elbowing his side. "You can tell me."_

_He shrugged, cocking his head once toward the empty hallway. "I just thought I heard something, that's all."_

_"Well, what'd you hear?" Calleigh asked curiously._

_"I don't know," he replied, obviously somewhat vexed. "It was so fleeting, that I'm not even sure I heard anything at all." Not wanting to worry his beautiful wife, he chose not to mention the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach._

_Calleigh nodded, craning her neck for a better look out into the hallway. "What'd it sound like?"_

_"Footsteps," he said automatically, remembering all too well the sound he'd actually heard. "It was like somebody had stepped on a weak spot in the floor, and the floorboards squeaked."_

_"We're the only ones here though," Calleigh reasoned, shaking away the slight sense of worry that had fallen over her. There was nobody else there but them; their Hummer was the only vehicle in the driveway. Calleigh herself had made sure the scene was clear before they'd gotten to work. Nobody was there._

_"I know that, Cal," he sighed. "That's why I'm sure it was nothing."_

_Calleigh hesitated for a moment. "Okay," she said slowly, forcing her smile back to her lips. "In that case, I'm gonna go take a look around the kitchen and see if anything's out of place in there, so maybe we can get out of here faster," she added, a knowing shimmer in her emerald eyes._

_He was quick to stop her. "I'll do it," he offered, quickly searching for an explanation as he saw her puzzled expression. "Surely you'd rather play with the bullets in here than with whatever might be in the kitchen," he reasoned with a light bit of teasing._

_"Well, okay, since you offered," Calleigh chuckled, batting her eyelashes slightly._

_The next moments passed by agonizingly slowly, but at the same time they seemed to fly by. Within the space of three minutes, enough happened to make Calleigh's head spin. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before turning and heading into the hallway. Calleigh smiled happily before turning her attention back to the bullets on the ground. A few seconds of silence passed by without interruption._

_And then, she heard the sounds that would forever change her life. There was a sickening crack and a heavy thud, followed by the quick pounding of running feet, and a slamming door. Before Calleigh knew it, she was in the hallway, and the sight before her nearly brought her crashing to her knees._

_On the ground lay her husband, an empty expression in his eyes and a large baseball bat lying a couple feet away from him._

_Suddenly, a nauseous Calleigh found herself crashing back into the hospital waiting room, remembering all too clearly why she was there. Once she'd regained her bearings, she'd placed the frantic call for rescue, and she'd ended up here in the bleak waiting room while her husband was rushed off to surgery._

_The only movement in the room came from the steady motion of the hands of the clock on the wall. It was unnerving, the stillness, and all Calleigh wanted to do was pace determinedly about the room, but she just couldn't get her body to move. She was still in shock._

_And then, her anxious imagination joined forces with her vulnerable eyes and mind, though at the time she didn't realize it was merely a hallucination. She just knew that something was happening, right before her very eyes._

_It began in the farthest corners of the room, and Calleigh rubbed at her swollen eyes, sure that her mind was playing tricks on her. But instead of disappearing, the illusion only seemed to grow. It was a darkness that slowly began to spread out from the corners, leaving all it touched shrouded in nothing but blackness._

_Calleigh had no idea what it was, or even how what she was watching was possible. All she knew was that the longer she watched it, the closer the darkness came to her, inducing a slowly growing sense of panic within her. Whatever she was seeing…it wasn't good. That much she knew._

_Piece by piece that darkness swallowed every wall, and it was fear that finally pushed Calleigh to her feet. Her fear of the walls closing in on her was eclipsed only by the until-now irrational fear of forever sinking into darkness, never to see the light of day again._

_Shakily she pushed herself toward the only door in the room, her panic growing as dizziness engulfed her, making the darkening room spin around her. It began to spin so violently that Calleigh nearly fell to the ground; instead, she threw her hands out, planting them firmly against the door. The darkness was closing in around her, and, sensing her escape was oh so close, Calleigh reached blindly for the doorknob, a blessed sense of relief falling upon her as she found it._

_But the relief was short-lived, for that doorknob just wouldn't turn. She tugged and tugged at the door, but no matter how much she pulled, the door just wouldn't budge. Her fear returned, and she made the mistake of glancing behind her, her eyes perceiving nothing but the deepest black._

_And when it seemed no hope remained, her ears began to pick up on the faintest of sounds. A voice. Calleigh could hear it, but it seemed so far away. She wanted to call out to it, to let them know she was here, but her own voice just would not come to her. It continued to call out to her, that faraway voice, but as Calleigh sunk to her knees in front of the door, she couldn't help but realize that this was it. There was no way out of this._

_She was sinking in darkness, and there was nothing she could do about it. It was crushing her. Calleigh couldn't breathe; she tried desperately to pull air into her burning lungs, but the darkness had sucked every last bit of oxygen out of the room._

_She was going to die there. Of all places, in the middle of a hospital._

_Abruptly, a hand closed over her shoulder, and Calleigh gasped sharply, startled. Just as suddenly as it had settled in, the darkness disappeared, and as Calleigh looked around, she found herself not in front of the locked door, but still in the uncomfortable chair that she had never actually left. Turning her head, Calleigh recognized the doctor sitting next to her as the doctor who'd been attending to her husband. His hand was clasped gently over her shoulder, and as he spoke, Calleigh recognized the voice that had called out to her. Had she honestly just hallucinated?_

_She swallowed, summoning her voice to her dry mouth. "Doctor…how – how is he?"_

_The doctor fixed her with a long, thoughtful gaze before he attempted to jump straight to the point. "Your husband's injury…" he trailed off, pursing his lips as he searched for the best way to word the news._

_But his pause carried on far too long for Calleigh's comfort. She swallowed the lump in her throat before she spoke, a harsh, scratchy whisper leaving her lips in place of her strong, controlled voice. "Just tell me," she pleaded, knowing that beating around the bush would only prolong the agony, the worry. "Just tell me he's okay."_

_The doctor fought not to sigh. "Mrs. Delko…"_

_"Just tell me," Calleigh repeated, her voice strained._

_"Okay." He swallowed, mentally preparing his words one last time. "Up until today, the bullet fragment in Eric's head," the doctor paused, hesitating once more. "It wasn't threatening him. He could've lived for the rest of his life with that bullet there. His brain had successfully built pathways around it to compensate for the areas that had suffered."_

_"Now," he continued, "a blow to the head is always worrisome. It can be fatal in itself, if inflicted in just the right way, and with enough force." He paused, seeing the look in Calleigh's eyes that told him she knew where he was taking this. "That combination is not hard to accomplish with a weapon, such as a baseball bat." Gently he squeezed Calleigh's shoulder, noticing her hands begin to shake. This was truly the one thing he hated about this job. "The bullet and its accompanying scar tissue were dislodged by the blow to the head your husband sustained. In addition to the bruising caused by the blow, there was a large amount of intracranial bleeding due to the bullet. The pressure in his skull had built up far too much before he arrived here. There was…nothing we could do."_

_A nervous whimper escaped from Calleigh's lips. "No…"_

_"I am truly sorry, Mrs. Delko."_

_"No…"_

_"We did everything within our power to save him, but Eric was gone before we got him here."_

_"No." The word was defiant, denying the truth that Calleigh refused to believe. Her Eric…dead? He couldn't be. He just couldn't be. It wasn't possible._

_Suddenly Calleigh was on her feet, paying no heed to the voice behind her as she bolted out the door and through the hall, somehow knowing instinctively where Eric was. Dodging nurses and doctors, she made it to Eric in little more than a minute. His name left her lips as she pushed through the doorway, shocked once more by the empty look in his beautiful eyes._

_She couldn't stop herself; Calleigh reached forward to take his hand. But she couldn't keep from gasping, recoiling as soon as she touched him. His skin was already as cold as ice._

_He was really and truly gone. _

**..**

With a muffled cry, Calleigh shot awake, more exhausted than she'd been when she'd first gone to bed. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps; her heart pounded frantically, as though it were trying to break free from her very chest. Drenched in a cold sweat, Calleigh couldn't stop the shivers that overtook her as remnants of her dream – her _nightmare_ – flitted through her mind.

For a second time, she had dreamed of Eric's death.

That first time, however, she hadn't been able to save him.

This time, _she_ had killed him. She had been responsible for his death.

No, she hadn't been the one who had put the bullet in his head. Nor had she been the one who'd hit him in the back of the head, dislodging that bullet. And this time, she hadn't been the doctor who had eventually given up on him.

Instead, Calleigh had simply neglected to listen to him. She hadn't believed him; she hadn't taken him seriously when he'd said he'd heard something. She had convinced him that it was nothing, and they had gotten back to work. And when he'd done just that, he'd ended up dead, making his death her responsibility.

She couldn't concentrate on the fact that she'd done nothing to hurt Eric; Calleigh could only see that she had done nothing to help him. In her dream, he had died because she had neglected to listen to him.

What on earth could this possibly mean?

Shakily Calleigh sat up, instinctively pulling a pillow tightly against her chest as she did. She hadn't gone so far as to bury her face within the pillow, but she didn't have to do that to pick up on the scent ingrained within the fabric.

_Jake._

And suddenly, the reality of her real nightmare came crashing back to her. Jake. His lies. The papers that Calleigh had shakily retrieved from the kitchen floor, the papers which now resided within the top drawer of her dresser. The ways he'd hurt her, splintering her heart over and over, past and present.

Calleigh had been convinced that she couldn't possibly feel any more confusion, any more pain or guilt. But that memory did it. It hit her like a punch to the stomach, causing it to contract painfully, burning dully as the acid churned within it. Her mind was consumed with a never ending barrage of emotion, brought about by two simple names. Jake. Eric. Jake. Eric. Over and over they repeated in her mind, serving only to confuse her even more.

She felt almost as though she were going to be sick again, but she knew there was nothing left in her stomach to expel. Even so, she pulled herself out of her bed with great effort and made her way to the bathroom, deciding a shower could do wonders to calm her nerves. And she knew that she'd never be able to make herself sleep now, not as sticky with sweat as she was.

Calleigh turned the hot water all the way up, knowing she needed the hot water to wash away the rest of the night. It wasn't just the sweat that she wanted to wash away; if she could, Calleigh wouldn't mind right now to wash herself away, she felt just that broken.

As she stepped beneath the scalding spray, Calleigh closed her eyes, trying desperately to piece this most recent nightmare into the puzzle formed by every other dream she'd had. She was convinced that they all fell into the same universe; even more was she convinced that if she could just look at everything logically, she would be able to figure out the answer.

But it was too much to process. Could every single dream she'd had recently really be trying to tell her the same thing? In some of the dreams, Calleigh was content, but in others her world had just ended. In some of the dreams, she was married to someone who'd just died – at her own hands, the cynical portion of her mind reminded her – and in other dreams, she never saw the face of her husband. And what of Hailey? Sometimes she was there, but then other times Calleigh thought nothing of her. Did that mean that Hailey just didn't exist in some of the dreams, or that Calleigh was just too consumed with worry and grief over Eric to think about her daughter in that moment?

For every reason that the dreams might be connected, there were two reasons why they might not be connected. For one, in one of the dreams Calleigh had been in two places at once. Through the glass she had watched Eric die on the table, while simultaneously being the doctor who had given up on him. She'd been in two places at once, which clearly wasn't possible. Not to mention the fact that Calleigh quite obviously lacked a medical degree.

And Eric couldn't die twice…that was impossible. In her dreams, he had died twice, both of them under similar, yet different circumstances. He couldn't die from the gunshot to his head (which he hadn't anyway, Calleigh remembered), and then some time later die _again_ from a blow to the head.

None of this was making sense.

Still, Calleigh couldn't help but ponder the questions that each dream raised within her.

Was she about to make a decision that would end with her raising a daughter alone?

Would every future choice she was to make end up hurting somebody deeply?

Was she destined to live a life of guilt no matter which decision she made?

Maybe the answer to each of those was in fact a resounding no. Maybe there was no basis or foundation for any of her dreams. Maybe the real answer was something else altogether.

Maybe Calleigh was finally losing it.

In her outwardly calm, yet inwardly frantic state, that was the explanation that seemed most plausible to Calleigh herself. And it scared her more than anything.

She needed to take back her control. Her life, her dreams, her heart – she needed to take all of it back into her own hands.

And, one way or another, that was exactly what she was going to do.

Eventually the water began to run cold, and Calleigh, having felt enough shivers and tremors for one night, quickly stopped the water and stepped out, her body only going through the motions of drying off and dressing. She didn't even bother to dry her hair, but whether it was because she was exhausted and depressed, or because she just didn't care, Calleigh didn't know. She just didn't want to deal with it. She couldn't.

But she couldn't go back to bed, either, as she discovered once she'd stepped out from the steam-filled bathroom. Calleigh was still exhausted; standing in the shower for so long had done nothing but rinse the sweat from her body and take away another half-hour of sleep. She was so tired that she was ready to simply collapse where she stood, unsure if her feet would hold her up any longer. But instead of doing anything about it, Calleigh could only stand and stare at the bed.

The sheets on her side were rumpled, clearly a telltale sign of a restless night. They were tossed about all over the place, and a pillow had ended up tossed on the floor about three feet from the bed, halfway out of its rumpled pillowcase. But as messy as her side of the bed was, the other side remained pristine, untouched, untarnished by the darkest of dreams. Only a pillow – _his_ pillow – was out of place, finding itself on Calleigh's side of the bed. It was the pillow that she unconsciously clutched each night as she slept, longing for it to bring her any sort of comfort.

But it seemed that his scent, entrenched so deeply in the fabric, just wasn't enough. Calleigh needed the real thing. A pillow lacked a heartbeat; it lacked the arms to hold her. It lacked the lips to whisper reassurance to her as she awoke from the darkest dreams. It simply wasn't enough that it carried his scent.

A pillow just wasn't Jake, no matter how tightly Calleigh held onto it.

But then again, a pillow had a single advantage over Jake. A pillow would never lie to her.

Without her permission, Calleigh's mind drifted back to the papers that she'd shakily retrieved from her kitchen floor earlier that evening. Such a draining task it had been; it was as though she were quite literally gathering into her arms the pieces of her broken heart, her shattered trust. On the floor she'd sat, her back to the refrigerator and her knees to her chest as she read through those papers once more, praying to find any indication that they were papers from the past, and not the present. But try as she might, Calleigh could find no such details.

So that was what Jake was doing, Calleigh surmised. That was why he hadn't come home; that was why he hadn't called her as he'd promised. He had lied about his father's health so he could continue doing what he loved, without telling Calleigh.

Had she been engaging in a losing battle all this time? Was Jake always going to be far too enamored of that part of his life to ever be completely there for Calleigh? Would she forever have to share his attention and his heart with his career, which he'd chosen over her time and time again in the past?

Did she mean _anything_ to him at all?

They were the questions that haunted her mind, making her doubt every last decisions she'd ever made with regard to him. Maybe giving him a second chance was the wrong choice after all. So why had she been so quick to grant him that second chance?

Calleigh knew exactly why she'd given him that second chance. Jake had all but pointed it out to her that night not so long ago, even though it felt like an eternity had passed since then.

_"And I always stuck around, thinking that maybe this time would be different. That maybe I could change things." Calleigh shook her head, her eyes scrunched tightly. "How stupid could I be?"_

_"Not stupid, sweetheart," Jake said softly, stroking her back. "There's just something in you that wants to see the best in everybody, especially if it's somebody you care about. It's part of what makes you who you are."_

_"A flaw, in other words," Calleigh rephrased negatively._

_"Not a flaw, baby. If you didn't have that, you never would've given me a second chance."_

And that truly was what it came down to. Obviously Jake knew that about her, and yet he still did this? Had he done all of this _because_ he'd known that about her? The idea was truly chilling, and Calleigh knew she'd never forgive herself for not seeing that if it turned out to be true.

There really was something within her that believed that Jake had changed, that he had finally grown up and was ready to be with her completely. And Calleigh had never been immune to his charm, no matter how hard she tried. Though it wasn't something she would ever reveal, when Jake had first come back into her life, Calleigh had spent those first several months avoiding him. Even then, she'd known for certain that he would easily be able to get back under her skin, and once he did, getting him out would be nearly impossible. That was why they'd never made it to that dinner until _after _he'd kissed her in the middle of the lab. Calleigh wasn't willing to let herself get hurt again.

And yet, that had happened anyway.

Jake had lied to her. He was doing what he wanted. But Calleigh was hurting. Eric was obviously hurting. And Calleigh couldn't help but wonder…if she'd chosen Eric instead of Jake, would any of them be hurting? Could every last bit of this have been avoided if only she'd made a different decision?

But turning back time wasn't something Calleigh could do, so that wasn't an answer she would ever find. What had happened had already happened. There was no taking it back. And maybe she deserved the pain; after all, she had chosen Jake, knowing that he'd shattered her heart before. She should've expected this; she shouldn't be surprised that Jake had chosen work over her again.

Part of her wanted to feel angry, vengeful.

But instead, underneath her deep pain and confusion, all Calleigh could feel was guilt. She still couldn't help feeling guilty over dreaming about Eric. She had no idea where Jake actually was or what he was actually doing, and still she was dreaming about Eric's death. For all Calleigh knew, Jake might _actually_ be dead, but the one her subconscious worried about was Eric.

Even though Jake had lied to her; even though Jake had hurt her, Calleigh still felt so plainly the guilt over something that she knew would hurt Jake. He'd hurt her, but Calleigh didn't _want_ to hurt him in return.

It was why Calleigh couldn't let herself return to that bed tonight. There was no way she could let herself slip beneath the covers of the bed she had shared with Jake, not while her mind was also torn about Eric. To her, it almost felt like a betrayal in itself. And she'd already betrayed Jake once today.

Trying desperately to push everything from her mind, Calleigh concentrated on counting her footsteps as she grabbed a pillow from her bed – her pillow, not Jake's – and made her way into the hallway and out into the den. Tiredly she tossed her pillow onto the couch before grabbing the remote, turning on one of the late night talk shows; she didn't care which one it was. She didn't want to watch anything; she just needed to listen to something; she just needed something to distract her mind.

Lowering herself to the uncomfortable couch, Calleigh felt her back protest, but did nothing to ease the slight pain. At this point, a bit of physical pain was like a blessing to her emotionally wounded self. Pulling the blanket from the back of the couch, she covered her body with it, knowing that it wouldn't be long before her exhaustion claimed her once more, sending her into another bout of restless slumber.

But this time, Calleigh prayed that her exhaustion would not plunge her once more into those nightmares.


	24. Home

**I honestly appreciate those of you who respect my like for Jake. I totally understand that you may not fully understand why I like him, lol, but I do like him, and it means a lot that some of you respect that enough to at least give my Jake a chance. This is as much his story as it is Cal's or Eric's, and to know that some of you guys can look past your dislike for canon Jake and still be able to enjoy the story for the story, I appreciate that more than you know. Some of you guys deserve cookies for your thoughtful reviews, but since I can't bake, I can't promise that, lol. Just know that your kind words are _truly _appreciated. **

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty-Four  
Home**  
-**  
**_

It was both all too soon and not soon enough that Jake was slouched in the back of a cab, speeding through the streets of Miami. Not soon enough because he was dying to see Calleigh, but all too soon because he still had not a clue what he was going to do about this…mess. That was the only word he could use to describe what he'd gotten himself into.

Well, it wasn't the _only_ description, but it was better than the more accurate idea – that he'd dug his own grave, and then found himself buried alive in it.

Absently Jake gazed out the window, letting out a defeated sigh every now and then. Letting his mind drift, he counted the streetlights as they passed by in a blur, each one of them highlighting the exhaustion written deep in his face, his eyes. He couldn't help wishing he could switch them all off and complete the rest of the ride in total darkness. The stark, artificial glare stung his already burning eyes, and besides, the only light he wanted to see right now was that beautiful sparkle that so often adorned Calleigh's emerald eyes.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Cal," he murmured, not even caring that the cabdriver probably thought he was crazy or drunk. Everything he'd ever done, he'd done it for her. And yet, still it was never enough. The pain, the truth, the threats that may or may not have been genuine – he'd wanted nothing more than to protect her from all of it.

At this point, there was nothing more Jake could do than watch his entire life play like a movie through his head as he tried to figure out where exactly he'd went wrong. Maybe his entire life had been wrong.

Ever since he could remember, Jake had always been a bit of a wanderer. Settling down just wasn't a part of his vocabulary. In college, he'd changed majors like he changed shirts, never deciding completely on one until it got to the point where if he didn't decide, he wouldn't graduate on time. It wasn't something he was proud of, but he seemed to go through girlfriends like that too. If things stayed the same for too long, Jake got antsy, anxious. He was the complete and polar opposite to Calleigh – she had always craved predictability and control, and Jake had craved thrill of losing it, at least for a little while.

He would easily grow restless if he wasn't out doing _something. _The thought of waking up at six every morning and going in to work a nine-to-five job every single day agitated him. Jake had a major affinity for the wild side; he was happiest when things were unpredictable. And working undercover, despite all the risks, gave him that.

He never ignored the risks, though. Jake knew they were there, but he didn't pay too much heed to them. Dying had always been a possibility…just, not for him. There was a certain thrill in playing a different part, living an entirely different life. When he was undercover, moments away from uncovering secrets and lies, so close to putting a deadly criminal away from life, he felt nothing could stop him. The high he got from it was indescribable.

It made him somebody. It gave him something to work for, something live for. When he wasn't Jake Berkeley, he had a purpose.

When he wasn't Jake Berkeley, he felt invincible. He could do anything; he could risk everything, with no consequences to follow him back to his real life. That part of his life was there for him when he had nothing else.

And then, after an entire decade in which they might as well have been dead to one another, Calleigh Duquesne had crashed back into his life. Calleigh Duquesne, who had single-handedly stolen his heart in the academy. Those days – and nights – with her at the academy had been the best of his life; he'd found nothing better than the friendly, flirty competition they'd shared. He'd easily and quickly fallen for her back then, in a way he'd never fallen before.

But then they had left the academy, Jake beating her out of the top spot in the class, as he was so quick to remind her. Suddenly their lives were more than exams and classrooms. There were real choices to make. Choices that could change both their lives, possibly for good, possibly for bad.

Calleigh had been content to work patrol, but Jake had always dreamed of something bigger. Something more. He wanted to play a bigger part than simply arresting and driving a criminal downtown. He wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to infiltrate. And despite Calleigh's concerns, he'd taken his first undercover assignment.

One became two, and two quickly became more and more. The work was addictive. He was hooked.

At least, it had been addictive when it wasn't being forced upon him. At one time, he'd had the choice: he could've walked away. But he hadn't. He'd continued pushing the envelope as far as he could. It was just in his nature. Jake Berkeley did not back down.

And besides, it was just work, wasn't it?

But his view changed drastically beginning the night that he'd watched Sam kill that innocent man. Jake was practically still a kid; murder wasn't what he had signed on for, and it was at that point that he first wanted out.

What he didn't realize at the time was that he'd sealed his fate that night. The moment Jake had chosen impetuously to help Sam cover up the murder instead of reporting it or arresting Sam himself had been the moment that he'd lost his say in his own career. That one night had changed everything.

He just didn't realize it until later. Some time later, when Jake found himself being hauled in for questioning about that very night, he had almost had his paperwork completed. Witnessing his partner murder someone had turned him off from this life, and Jake was more ready than ever to transfer out. Homicide, patrol, Jake didn't care. He just wanted out. All he had left to do was finish the rest of his paperwork and complete the necessary assessments, and then the door would forever close on this part of his life.

He knew he would miss the undercover work; that had never been a doubt to him. But what he missed was the thrill, and that had been tainted for him.

At that point, getting out was also the best thing to do for him and Calleigh. What he felt for her was so unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He'd had plenty of girlfriends in the past, but Calleigh was the first that Jake could honestly see himself spending the rest of his life with. Even then, over a decade ago, he'd known she was special. He'd wanted to marry her, have a family with her, grow old with her. He had been so ready to give up this part of his life for that, for her.

If the night that he watched Sam kill that man had sealed Jake's fate, then the night he'd been questioned about it was the final nail in the coffin. That was the night that Jake had made his greatest mistake – revealing only half of the truth. But what else could he have done? He'd been under pressure, and even though he'd resolved not to reveal anything, the moment that Calleigh's life was threatened was the moment he broke. He'd crumbled like a leaf.

But he was still young. There was still a part of him that had to look out for himself, and thus he'd only revealed the part of the truth that didn't incriminate himself.

And for the longest time, his confession was viewed as the truth. In fact, that part hadn't resurfaced until he'd come to Miami. But still, Jake flew below the radar for awhile, choosing to withhold his transfer request just in case that wasn't the end of it.

But there was another problem that faced him the next time he tried to get out of the undercover life. By then, he'd realized the people he'd gotten involved with in this job – some of them were just as corrupt as the people they worked against. And by then, those very people had discovered Jake's weakness. They knew he would do anything, _anything_ to protect the woman he loved.

It was around that time that Jake's assignments had begun to get longer, more dangerous. He had gained enough experience to take on those riskier assignments, and it was easy to force him to take them. Other agents avoided making such deep, emotional attachments outside of work, and the few who did kept it quiet. But Jake…he'd seemed unable to hide any of it, and for that, he suffered. The higher-ups knew that they could coerce him to do anything just by threatening Calleigh, that he would give his life to protect Calleigh. And instead of respecting that, they chose to exploit it.

Instead of giving up that part of his life for Calleigh, Jake was forced to continue living that life for Calleigh. He couldn't walk away. There was no way he could know whether or not the threats were genuine, but that wasn't something he could comfortably sit back and wait to find out.

If something were to happen to Calleigh because of him, Jake would never be able to forgive himself. Never.

He knew that their relationship had begun to suffer after that. But Jake just never realized just how badly he was actually hurting Calleigh. But what could he do about it?

There were three choices. He could ignore the threats and complete his transfer over to another department, possibly putting Calleigh in danger. He could tell the entire truth and go to jail himself, and lose Calleigh completely. Or, he could keep doing what he was doing, and just hope that Calleigh would understand why he had to leave her in the middle of the night, sometimes for weeks and months at a time.

She _didn't_ understand.

It wasn't for lack of trying, though. There was nobody as supportive as Calleigh, and to her credit, she did try for him. It just eventually became far too much. She began to fall apart right in front of him; or maybe she'd been falling apart for a long time, and Jake had merely blinded himself to it in his own debacle. No longer was Calleigh his happy, bubbly girlfriend; she was a woman who lost sleep every night she didn't hear from him; a woman who lost her sanity just a little more each and every time the phone rang. She was a woman who'd had enough.

What Calleigh had seen was that Jake had been unable to choose between his job and her. And Jake couldn't talk to her about this; he couldn't prove that she was wrong. All he could do was stand and watch as she walked away from him, believing she had made the choice for him.

And suddenly, his undercover alias was all that Jake had. It was either throw everything he had into that part of his life, or sit at home nursing a broken heart. It was no secret which choice would be less painful.

Two nights after losing Calleigh, Jake stumbled around his apartment, packing a few little things and getting ready for his first truly dangerous assignment. He'd worked risky assignments before, but this was the first time the odds were truly against him, but what did he care? He didn't have anything to come home to.

It had been the rush, the thrill that he needed. And four months later, he'd been back at the precinct, back to being a regular cop just like no time had passed at all. And that became his routine; a few months undercover, followed by a few months working simple traffic stops and the like. It gave his life the unpredictability Jake craved. And it seemed that finally his past mistakes had stopped following him, once he'd realized what he had to do.

And he couldn't help immersing himself deep within that life, that job once more. What else did Jake have?

Pretending he was somebody else helped him ignore the aching, gaping hole that Calleigh had left in his heart. And the more he focused on work instead of that hole, the easier it became for Jake to move on. Slowly, Jake found himself enjoying the work again. He had a new partner, a new outlook, a new set of cases – and all of it eased the transition back inside, even though physically he'd never left. Emotionally, though, that was a different story, and he'd had to become emotionally ready to work undercover again before he could fully enjoy it, to see it once more as the career he'd often daydreamed about.

And after that point, Jake rarely saw Calleigh. When he did, he couldn't get her to look him in the eye. They never spoke, not until what became clear to Jake as the end. Their end, closing the door on every possibility of a second chance.

It had been one of Jake's rare days at the precinct, the day that the red-headed lieutenant had dropped in, ready to whisk Calleigh away to Miami. He'd heard through the grapevine that Calleigh had immediately accepted the offer. And honestly, Jake had been happy for her. After all, she was the rightful number one from their academy class. There was more out there than what this Louisiana precinct could offer her.

And so she had gone, putting the Gulf of Mexico and much of the state of Florida between both of their broken hearts.

And then a decade later, Jake himself had found his way to Miami. He couldn't help but see the irony: his undercover work had torn them apart in the past, but it was his infiltration of that bike gang that had brought him to Miami. Jake knew that Calleigh was there, but he hadn't deluded himself into believing he would see her again. They worked in very different circles, and he'd never expected their paths to cross again unless he purposely sought her out, which he'd told himself he wouldn't do, for both of their sakes.

But she had found him. When she'd stood before him in that garage, Jake had felt the same tug in his chest that he'd felt the first time he'd met her. The only difference was that this time, he was better at keeping it a secret when the situation called for it.

And thus began his downward spiral. The death of his partner had hit a little too close to home, and it had pushed Jake in that direction, but there was only one real reason why Jake had decided once more to try transferring out of UC and into homicide. And that was Calleigh. The connection they'd had so long ago…he'd felt it as soon as she looked into his eyes. Somehow it had survived ten years and hundreds of miles. Surely she still felt it as well. And this time, there was just something within him that would not let him say no. He needed that second chance with her, more than anything.

For ten years, his past had lain dormant. And now he was hundreds of miles away from that past. He'd thought it was truly behind him; that it couldn't possibly follow him all the way to Miami, after all this time. He had assumed that he could easily make the transfer this time, without any complications.

But somehow that past had found him anyway, and now he was left in this predicament. There was no way out. He'd tried and failed to stop it, and now he was going to have to take this one last assignment.

Success would grant him his freedom, once and for all.

Failure would be marked by the end of his life.

What was he going to tell Calleigh?

As he stood in the dark driveway watching the cab speed off into the distance, Jake realized that he truly had no idea. How could he possibly explain any of this to Calleigh? The only way was to give her the entire story, from beginning to end. And that scared Jake.

With conflicted steps, Jake made the trek to the front door, pausing as he fished his key from his pocket. On the one hand, he couldn't deny how absolutely wonderful it felt to be here, to be _home_ again. He was going to see Calleigh in only a matter of moments. He might even be able to slip into bed with her and be there beside her when she woke in the morning. Even just the idea made him smile longingly.

On the other hand, that conflict, that uncertainty colored everything in his life now. On the flight back, he'd searched through every corner of his heart and mind, trying to find some way to tell Calleigh the truth. But then when he'd stepped onto the Miami tarmac, he'd still been empty-handed.

One excruciating cab ride later, and empty-handed Jake remained.

It was the reality that consumed him as he quietly opened the front door, finding himself immediately inundated with _that_ scent. It wasn't just any one scent; it was a mixture of vanilla and some kind of spice, mixed with Calleigh's unique, intoxicating scent. Home, that was what it smelled like. It was the scent he'd come to associate with his happiest, most comfortable moments, all of which occurred when Calleigh was by his side.

Finding his knees momentarily weakened, Jake set his bags down in the foyer, no longer wanting to dwell upon everything those bags represented. Forgetting them for the moment, he followed the dim light that spilled out from the direction of the den. Was Calleigh awake? The thought made his heart skip as he quickened his pace.

But when he made it to the den, the visual that greeted him tugged at his heart, in good ways and bad. The faint light that he had followed had come from the television, its volume on mute. Sprawled on the couch was Calleigh, her hair tousled and her blanket half on the floor. Jake had always found her adorable when she slept, but something about this was just wrong. It was half past three in the morning; why wasn't she in bed?

Taking a step closer, Jake kneeled in front of her, a hand closing around the remote which had also fallen to the ground. Switching off the television, he gave his full attention to the sleeping beauty before him.

He didn't want to wake her, but Jake honestly hated the idea of Calleigh sleeping on the couch instead of in her warm bed, especially if he could hold her in his arms while she slept. His thumb gently stroking her cheek, Jake gave a deep sigh, ever softly calling her name.

It took a few more times before she began to stir, and Jake couldn't help but smile softly as she groaned, swatting sleepily at his hand. "Beautiful…" he coaxed, moving closer to press a kiss to her forehead. Calleigh mumbled unintelligibly, and Jake knew she was there, right at the edge of consciousness. But for some reason, she was having trouble breaking the barrier. Was she really that exhausted?

A moment longer he waited, and slowly, her eyes came open, blinking several times as she attempted to see in the dark. The room's only light came from the faint moonlight which streamed in through the curtains, but Calleigh could immediately discern who was kneeling in front of her. His voice, his touch, his scent…all of it gave him completely away. "Jake?" she murmured sleepily, unable to stifle a yawn. She was still so terribly exhausted.

"It's me, sweetheart," Jake confirmed quietly, unable to keep his heart from fluttering. Far too long he'd been separated from her, and even just to be in front of her now was just indescribable. "What are you doing out here?" he asked, scolding her playfully. "It's three-thirty. You should be in bed."

Calleigh stretched lazily, a slow yawn leaving her lips. In her half-awakened state, she could only vaguely remember why she had fallen asleep on the couch, so instead she shrugged, choosing not to think about it. She was too tired. "I don't know," she murmured. "I guess I fell asleep during…during Letterman or something…"

Jake smirked, shaking his head. "Well, no wonder you fell asleep. You know Leno's better."

"Is not," Calleigh argued sleepily.

"Please," Jake scoffed playfully. In the half-light he studied her beautiful face, from her still-sleepy eyes to her half-quirked lips, committing each part of her beauty once more to memory. Stretching out a hand, he brushed a knuckle over the softness of her cheek.

He couldn't help but frown slightly at the sheer exhaustion that presented itself in Calleigh's eyes. "Why are you so tired, beautiful?" he asked, genuinely concerned as he watched her yawn. Something was clearly wrong; there was none of that playful Calleigh vibrance in her eyes, nor in her voice. "Is everything okay?" He knew Calleigh only had trouble sleeping when something was bothering her. She was the kind of person who could get two hours of sleep a night and still wake up the next morning looking perfect. For her to be so exhausted, and sleeping on the couch – something else Jake knew Calleigh only did when she was bothered – something had to be wrong.

Calleigh possessed not the strength to fight back yet another yawn. Jake's featherlight touch felt just hypnotic over her tired skin, and it was all she could do not to lose herself in it and drift away right in front of him. "I don't know," she murmured, too tired to think, to feel anything else. Her emotions were quite literally shot, and taking the time to think deeply or feel emotionally would drain her body of the precious bit of energy it took to stay awake. "I'm just tired…"

Jake smiled sympathetically. "Well, I'm sorry I woke you," he said quietly, leaning in closer to her. "I just missed you so bad, that's all," he finished low before lowering his lips to hers. He kissed her softly, one hand gently threading through her wavy locks as he lost himself in sensations he'd missed so terribly while he'd been gone. Her lips felt so soft as they moved against his own. It was strange to him – Calleigh was exhausted, he was exhausted too, but it remained nothing less than a perfect kiss. Slow, soft, just the right amount of want and need; it took Jake's breath away.

But before Calleigh could lose herself in that same sense of perfection, she couldn't stop the barrage of images that flashed before her eyes. _Eric. Jake. New Orleans, ten years past. The papers. Hailey. Eric's broken eyes as Calleigh glanced back at him from the elevator. Jake's caring, supportive eyes as she recounted her entire past to him. Eric's worried eyes as he found her by the side of the road, shaking and confused. Jake's eyes as he gazed deep into her soul as they stood together on the beach around a week ago. The kisses, all of the kisses…_

It wasn't a moment too soon that Jake pulled away, and Calleigh took a deep breath, the burning in her lungs almost overwhelming. Propping herself up on her elbows, she found herself unable to look Jake in the eyes, almost fearing that he would see right through to what she had done. With effort she searched for her voice, but couldn't find much more than a whisper. "Jake," she murmured, the reality of their situation, her pain hitting her just as plainly as it had earlier in the evening. Thankful for the darkness that hid her eyes, Calleigh bit at her lip, trying to steady herself. She wasn't ready for this, but she couldn't deny it either. Swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat, Calleigh forced herself to stand tall against the disarming feeling of his fingers gently brushing through her hair. "We – we need to talk," she whispered, almost afraid to lend her actual voice to the words. She shifted on the couch, bringing herself closer to Jake, close enough that his scent washed over her, making her dizzy. "We need –"

Before she could finish, the pad of Jake's thumb was over her lips, effortlessly silencing her. "Tomorrow, beautiful," he soothed, his heartbeat quickening slightly as he heard the uncertainty in Calleigh's words. "I think we could both use a good night's rest." Jake hadn't slept well at all the entire time he was away from her, and it was obviously that Calleigh hadn't either.

To his relief, Calleigh gave a slow nod. "Tomorrow," she murmured softly. This was something she needed to take care of as soon as possible, but on the other hand, Calleigh wasn't sure she would be able to go through with this without getting some rest.

Jake nodded, his eyes darkening slightly as he remembered that he needed to talk to her as well. But all of it could wait until tomorrow, he decided. This was a conversation that he needed to be rested for, and he needed Calleigh to be rested enough to listen to. "For now, you need to be in bed," he scolded gently, his grin fading when Calleigh didn't chuckle or retort. Something really was bothering her, but for the life of him Jake could not fathom what.

Gently he ruffled her hair, his mood lightening a bit when she the corners of her lips at least quirked at that. Before she could stop him, Jake stood and eased his arms beneath her body. "Come on, let's get you to bed," he suggested, easily lifting her into his arms, ignoring for the moment the alarm he felt at her lightness.

Calleigh gave a quiet squeal, having not expected that. "Jake!" she protested, swatting tiredly at his chest.

Jake smirked. "Sweetheart, you're so tired that you wouldn't be able to walk straight." He ignored her tired protests as he began to carry her out of the den and down the hallway, knowing the path so well even in the dark of night. It wasn't long before he was placing her down gently on the soft bed. She wasn't sure she could sleep there after what had happened earlier, but her back was so happy to be off of that couch and back in bed that she couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to.

He tucked her in, and as he started to move away, Calleigh's hand caught his. "Don't go," she murmured, letting a moment of vulnerability shine through her normally strong façade. It was a look that shot straight through to Jake's heart, and he smiled in reassurance.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly. "I just need to change first, that's all," he finished gently.

It was only a moment later that Calleigh felt him slip into bed beside her. Instinctively, she moved toward him, laying her head atop his chest as his arms wrapped tightly around her. She knew she didn't deserve to be held like this by him right now, but it felt so good and she was just so tired. She couldn't fight it.

It wasn't long before her breathing had evened out, her chest rising and falling softly as she breathed. Once more her face was serene as she dreamed, and as Jake pulled her closer to him, unconsciously she nuzzled into his body, seeking out the offered warmth, comfort.

"Cal?" Jake whispered experimentally, trying to gauge whether or not she was truly asleep. If she was, then she'd drifted away almost immediately. Was she really that exhausted?

Gently he stroked her hair, the feel of the soft, blonde waves such a treat for his fingertips. God, how he'd missed her. He allowed his fingers to trace down her sides and back up her back, noting that she didn't stir. She felt so wonderful in his arms, so perfect. He wasn't sure he deserved to feel like this with her, considering the predicament he'd found himself in. He'd lied to her time and time again, and though he'd had her best interests at heart, there was still a nagging voice in his mind telling him that he shouldn't let himself get too used to this feeling again.

But what he felt for her right now far eclipsed any nagging from his mind. If ever there had been any doubt, it was all gone now. He knew what this feeling was. The warmth that infused him every time he was near Calleigh, the pain that gripped his heart whenever he had to lie to her, the fear that froze his veins as he thought of what she might have to say to him tomorrow.

That was for tomorrow, though. For now, he had _this_. And even though he knew that Calleigh wasn't going anywhere right now, he couldn't help but tighten his arms around her, pulling her even closer to him.

And just before he allowed himself to close his eyes, Jake dropped a tender kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered along her skin, brushing over it with a touch as light as a feather as he softly whispered to her sleeping form the deepest, most undeniable truth of his life.

"I love you."


	25. An Ultimatum

**_Chapter Twenty-Five_**  
_**An Ultimatum  
**-**  
**_

For the first time in what felt like ages, Calleigh's mind remained blissfully empty of dreams for the remainder of the night. It was almost as though nothing could reach her while she remained snuggled in Jake's arms. No dreams, no doubts, no pain. Just peaceful, needed sleep.

Or maybe Calleigh was wrong. Maybe all that had merely been a dream anyway.

Late morning sunlight was streaming into the bedroom, but all it seemed to do was taunt Calleigh. It promised warmth and light, but not to Calleigh. As she lay in bed, she stared up at the ceiling, wishing that sunlight would chase away her own darkness, much as it did to any remaining shadows in the room.

But Calleigh was cold. Cold, lost, and alone.

The other side of the bed – Jake's side – was just as empty as it had been last night, when she'd first gone to bed. So disoriented was she that she couldn't be completely sure that he'd ever been there at all.

Had she merely dreamed Jake's return? Had he even come back at all?

And if so, why had he left her alone?

So clearly she could see him kneeling in front of her as she blinked sleepily on the couch. She could still feel every touch of his fingers along her cheek, through her hair. He'd kissed her softly, and then carried her back to bed. Or had he? What if Calleigh had dreamed every last bit of that?

Weakly, Calleigh reached over for his pillow, pulling it into her arms as she'd done nearly every night he'd been away. It was comforting; as she breathed in, there was no way she could ignore the way his scent seemed to be more strongly imprinted on the fabric than it had been before. It set her at ease…but it still didn't take away that she hadn't woken up with him.

It was trivial, maybe, but after the week she'd had, all she'd wanted was to wake up in his arms.

Her body feeling heavy and weak, Calleigh somehow managed to pull herself out of bed. She stumbled to the bathroom, immediately wincing as she took a good look at herself in the mirror. There were no other words for it; she looked terrible. Exhaustion and stress were clearly written upon her features. Her eyes were dull, almost a greyish green instead of her natural emerald green. Her skin was pale, more so than usual, serving only to emphasize the dark circles rapidly darkening beneath her eyes. Her hair even looked lifeless.

Coupled with waking cold and alone, the physical manifestation of her pain only emphasized what she knew she had to do. Calleigh couldn't keep doing this. She brushed her teeth and took one more look at herself before leaving the bathroom. With a deep breath, she opened the drawer on her bedside table, pulling out the manila envelope. It was now or never.

Her legs were surprisingly steady as they carried her down the hallway and into the kitchen. As she stood in the doorway, her eyes took in the sight before her. An already dressed Jake was pulling a skillet from the cabinet, obviously preparing to make breakfast. Did he know what Calleigh was planning to do? Was he trying to distract her? Calleigh doubted it, but it still didn't mean she could allow him to cook for her, not this morning. That was one of her weaknesses, and she could do nothing about it.

Before he could get started, Calleigh cleared her throat, knowing she wasn't ready for this, but knowing she had to do it anyway. "Jake…" she called softly, only loud enough to catch his attention. Insecurely she stood in the doorway, clutching that manila envelope behind her back.

Jake turned to face her, the smile that tugged at his lips nearly breaking Calleigh's resolve, not to mention her heart. "Hey, beautiful," he said, just as quietly. He allowed his eyes to take her in, frowning slightly at her obvious hesitancy. Her gaze was to the floor, and her teeth were very anxiously worrying her lower lip. Something was wrong, but Jake couldn't figure out what exactly it was. "I was just getting ready to fix some breakfast. I know you love –"

"I'm not hungry, Jake," Calleigh admitted quietly. She did love his cooking, but she knew that this morning, it would only make her nauseous. _Everything_ was making her nauseous. There was no way she would be able to eat, whether it was something special fixed by Jake, or even just a small bowl of cereal. No matter how much she needed the energy, every part of her body from her stomach to her heart would protest every last bite.

Jake's smile faded. "Is everything okay?" he asked, taking a good look at her for the first time in the light. He'd known the night before that she was exhausted, but now that he was seeing her fully, she looked…fragile. Broken, even.

Concern in his eyes, Jake started to move toward Calleigh, wanting nothing more than to take her in his arms. She looked so broken this morning, and all Jake wanted to do was hold her and make everything better, whatever the problem was.

But Calleigh, it seemed, had other plans. With a deep breath, Calleigh pulled her hands from behind her back, revealing the envelope she'd been holding, effectively stopping Jake in his tracks. She watched stoically as all the color drained from his face. "Your dad was never in the hospital, was he?"

Jake hesitated for a moment. This wasn't part of the plan; she wasn't supposed to find those papers. "I can explain, Calleigh."

"I think you'd better, Jake."

He turned his back to her, turning off the warming oven. He could tell by looking at Calleigh that she needed to eat, but he also knew she wouldn't. And Jake had a feeling he was going to have enough of an argument on his hands this morning. "You were never supposed to find those papers," he admitted quietly.

Calleigh narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean, Jake?" she asked, feeling offended. "You were just always going to lie to me? Or just hope I never discovered the truth?"

Jake leaned over the kitchen counter, letting out a deep breath. "Calleigh, you remember Sam Brody, right?"

Calleigh blinked. That wasn't the reply she had expected. And besides, what did he have to do with any of this? "Your old partner, right?" she said after a moment.

Jake nodded slowly. Wordlessly he stepped around the counter, taking a seat at the other side of it. For a moment he waited, feeling as Calleigh laid the envelope down and sat beside of him. "Yeah, my old partner. My first partner. He's uh, he's in prison. He's serving a life sentence for murder."

"Oh my God," Calleigh breathed. Slowly she was beginning to remember. She'd known Sam, vaguely. He'd been a great cop, highly respected by everyone in the department. And he'd been found guilty of murder? The story Calleigh had heard was that he'd taken a new position somewhere out west. Was that a prerequisite for working undercover, that even one's life outside of that life had to be nothing but a lie?

"Yeah. And I was with him that night, over a decade ago," Jake continued with a slight groan. If only his original plan had worked, he wouldn't have had to relive any of this. But now, here he was, having to divulge every part of it to Calleigh. He understood why she deserved to know, but that didn't make it any easier to dig up all of his old skeletons.

Knowing he had slightly stunned Calleigh into silence, Jake began, seeing the events scroll through his mind like a dark horror movie. "It was a dark, rainy night. We were patrolling an obscure alleyway together, waiting…" he swallowed, trying but failing to find a way around this. He'd told Calleigh that he'd done things he wasn't proud of, but he'd always denied to her his involvement with any kind of drugs. Undercover, it was what he had to do to avoid blowing an entire case, but it was never something he wanted Calleigh knowing about, or worse, associated with, especially when knowing the littlest details was enough to land someone in serious danger. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "We were waiting for a drop-off of heroin," he admitted, watching Calleigh tense beside him. "It was dark and windy, but there was just enough light to cause shadows on the walls. The littlest noises had me jumping out of my skin," Jake continued, chuckling slightly in an effort to lighten the mood. Tension had never sat well with him.

Calleigh, obviously, was not amused. "So what happened?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Jake let out a deep breath, raking his fingers through his short locks. "Somebody saw us, a man. Somehow he knew what we were there for. But he didn't know we were cops, and we couldn't very well reveal that."

"So who was he?"

"I didn't find this out until later, but he was a husband, a father of three young kids. Money was tight for them; his wife was sick and unable to work. He was struggling to work three jobs to support them, and they were still coming up short. He had to walk to each job because they couldn't afford to keep a car." Jake shook his head, the details churning his stomach just as they had when he'd first found out. "I was at the other end of the alley, keeping a look-out for the guys we were waiting for. I don't know what happened, but I turned around and – and…"

"And what, Jake?" Realizing her tone sounded a bit harsh, Calleigh reached out, gently brushing her fingers against his arm.

"It was no accident, Calleigh. I stood there and watched Sam kill that man in cold blood. And then…" Jake lowered his eyes, feeling the guilt hit him so viscerally. "I helped him cover it up."

Calleigh gave a low groan. "Oh God, Jake," she murmured in disbelief. "Why didn't you just walk away? Why didn't you file a report or something?"

"Calleigh, you've never worked undercover," Jake answered, his voice plainly displaying all the guilt he'd carried for over a decade. "In that kind of life, your partner becomes the only one you can count on while you're undercover. Your partner becomes your family, your confidante. You can't turn your back on your partner." He winced, remembering the night he'd finally given Sam up. "And if you do, the rest of the department turns on you…" he trailed off, his eyes trained on the floor below.

After a moment, the implications of his final statement came clear to Calleigh. "You did give him up, didn't you?"

Jake nodded tersely. "I helped Sam get rid of the body. I helped him clean up the scene, and I was sure we left no trace behind. But then again, I was still young. And Sam was more concerned about getting out of there quickly than cleanly. I was so sick afterward; I'd never seen anybody murdered before, and then to have all that blood to clean up…" Jake gave a shudder, and Calleigh had the urge to reach out and gently squeeze his knee in reassurance. But, she resisted, and Jake continued. "But it wasn't enough. The wife filed a missing persons report. The man Sam killed, he often used that alley as a shortcut home from work. It was practically the first place they started investigating." By now, Jake was sweating from recounting all this. "Well, they found evidence, and they knew that Sam and I had been in that alley that night."

Calleigh watched him intently, her own emotions in turmoil. She was confused, for she had not the slightest idea what this had to do with their current predicament. Was he trying to divert her attention? Or was everything somehow connected? She felt terrible for Jake, but she was still angry at him. Disappointed, even. She felt for him, but how generous with her feelings could she be, after the secrets she'd uncovered?

Beside her, Jake fought internally with his own emotions. How much could he possibly reveal to her? He knew he'd never been good with vocalizing his thoughts and actions. For him, the opposite of _easier said than done_ was often true. He cleared his throat, not sure if it was really trying to close up on him, or if he was merely imagining it. "Eventually, they hauled both of us in for questioning. It was a long three and a half weeks, but during those three and a half weeks, they got nothing from either of us. I could take the pressure. The threats, the hours and hours of being locked in that hot, humid interrogation room. I probably could've gone another three and a half weeks without saying anything."

"But for some reason, you did?" Calleigh assumed, trying to piece together the puzzle in her mind. "What changed?"

And there it was, the first question that Jake could not find the words to answer. He _knew_ the answer; the answer was never a secret to him. But it was an answer laced deeply with emotion, and he couldn't find his voice to say the simple answer – _you._

He hesitated for a moment too long, and Calleigh took the initiative, unwittingly saving him from the emotional truth. "You just cracked," she stated, watching the emotion roll in waves over Jake's features. "The pressure caused something to snap, didn't it?" It was a reality that Calleigh knew all too well – it hadn't been that long ago that pressure and stress had caused her to snap as well. She knew how it worked.

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I did," he sighed. He wanted to tell her, he really did, but how could he when there were just so many variables? Calleigh wasn't open to him right now; he could tell that. How would she react to knowing that she was the reason he did everything he'd done? What if her feelings didn't run as deeply as his did; what if the look in her eyes told him she wouldn't have done the same in his position? Could his heart take that? Could he possibly look her in the eye and tell her that, without knowing what he'd find there?

Jake knew he was chickening out, after spending so many days planning out this very conversation in his mind. But in his mind, he hadn't taken into consideration the sheer emotion involved. Nothing was ever as straightforward as it was in his mind. He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands.

And then Calleigh asked the question – well, one of the questions – that he dreaded. "So why is Sam the only one serving time? You…you're an accessory."

Jake couldn't help but flinch at the slight accusatory tone in her voice. "Because I didn't come clean, Calleigh."

"But I thought you just said –"

"_I_ didn't come clean," he repeated. "I didn't confess to my part in it."

And suddenly, a lot of the murkiness was cleared away for Calleigh. "You saved yourself," she remarked quietly. "You saved yourself while giving up your partner." It surprised her, the amount of anger that surged within her at Jake's admission. For as long as she'd known Jake, she'd watched him fight for self-preservation. Everything was always about him. The bike gang case, where Jake had been a suspect in the murder of his partner – he wouldn't step outside of his assumed role to help Calleigh or his partner's memory.

_"I can't step out for you, Calleigh." _His words rang once more in her ears, and once more she was left wondering. Can't? Or won't? Now, he had another partner for whom he wouldn't tarnish his own image. He always had to be in the middle of everything that happened, until things went south. And at that point, he just wanted out, without any thought to anybody else. He wouldn't surrender himself for either of his partners, and he sure as hell had never surrendered himself for Calleigh.

In a decade's time, Jake hadn't changed. And now, Calleigh couldn't help feeling deceived. Had he once again used his charm to hide the way he really was? Just the very idea sent ice water gushing through her veins. Abruptly she stood, biting her lip as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's just so typical of you, isn't it?" she murmured dangerously.

Jake's jaw dropped. "What?" He wasn't sure how this conversation was going to go, but he hadn't prepared for it to turn on him so quickly.

"It was always about you, wasn't it, Jake? Only looking out for number one?"

He was completely unprepared for the way her words stung him to the very core, hitting him hard enough to knock the breath out of him. And how was he even supposed to respond to that? That had been an integral part of his undercover life; it had been what he'd shown Calleigh time and time again in order to keep his cover intact. "That's not completely true, Calleigh."

Calleigh scoffed. "Isn't it? Everything you do, you _don't_ do it with only your interests in mind?"

Jake sighed. "Calleigh, I tried to get out of UC work," he confessed for the first time. Calleigh didn't reply, but her eyes held a twinge of mild surprise. "Shortly after that fiasco with Sam – after that all calmed down, I tried to get out. I wanted out, beautiful. I honestly did."

"But I thought that was your dream career," Calleigh said, confused.

"Yeah, it was. But after that point in time, it was tainted for me. I could handle almost anything they threw at me; the drugs, the alcohol, the coercive relationships –"

"You told me you weren't involved in any of that," Calleigh interrupted, a flicker of hurt in her eyes. He'd lied to her about that, too. At this point, she was beginning to wonder if there was any truth at all to his life, their relationship.

"I did what I had to do to survive," Jake replied, not proud of that fact. "But murder was never something I was okay with. After that, I wanted to run away as fast as I could. And I…" he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I wanted out so I could be with you completely. I stayed in only because I was being blackmailed," he finished, leaving out what he truly was being blackmailed with. When the department had turned on him, they'd turned on him _completely_. "It was only after I'd lost you that I was able to go back in and enjoy working undercover again, because it was all I had left."

Calleigh was silent for a moment, as her mind tried desperately to process the massive amount of information he had just thrown at her. Ten years, and this was the first she had heard of much of his secret life. "You kept all this from me for ten years," she realized aloud, biting hard at her lip. "So why tell me now?" Her eyes hardened as mentally she drew her shell around herself, not ready to feel the coming onslaught of pain. "If you didn't trust me with all this back then, what makes today so different?"

Jake gave a groan, frustratedly rubbing at his tired eyes. "It's not a matter of trust, Calleigh. It was _never_ a matter of trust."

"So you can honestly tell me that you weren't afraid I'd rat you out?" Calleigh challenged, taking a few steps back. Distance was control; the more space she had between herself and Jake, the better. "Knowing how much honesty and my career all mean to me, you weren't afraid that I'd do the right thing just because it was the right thing to do?"

Her words stunned him into momentarily silence, as honestly, that idea had never even crossed his mind until now. Should she have turned him in if she'd known? Yes. But had he ever wondered if she would turn him in or keep his secret? No, he hadn't. That wasn't something that had ever factored into his decision to keep this from her.

Calleigh, however, took his silence as an affirmation. "Never a matter of trust," she scoffed, glancing to the right. No matter how strong her shell was, knowing that still hurt her.

Jake stood, but it was with a force so strong that he had to hold himself back from gathering her into his arms. "I wanted to protect you."

"I don't need to be protected, Jake," Calleigh replied, annoyed.

"That's not what I meant, Calleigh," Jake retorted, a little too harshly. After the past few weeks he'd had, he couldn't stop himself from getting worked up like that. Forcing some control back into his voice, he continued. "I didn't want you to know anything that could come back to haunt you, like it has me. You had no part in any of this; you don't deserve to be tainted by it. That's the only reason I never told you any of this."

"In other words, you just didn't trust me to keep it quiet, right? You were afraid I'd crumble and confess the first time somebody looked at me crossly, didn't you?" Her eyes drifted to the envelope which had fallen forgotten on the floor, and Calleigh gave a sharp, bitter laugh. "And earlier I was upset because you enjoyed your undercover work so much that you had to go to work behind my back. Turns out I'm just completely in the dark about your entire life. I never even knew who you were!"

At those words, Jake felt his control snap like a twig. True, nobody had really known who he really was back then, but if there was anybody who'd come the closest to knowing the real Jake Berkeley, it was Calleigh. She knew more about him than his own family ever had. He knew she was upset, but her anger served to infuse his own anger, and he couldn't help feeling like the trust he did have in her was being taken for granted. "Oh, come on, Calleigh. You didn't trust me with your past ten years ago either! I guess you thought I'd find some way to use it against you, huh? Or maybe you just didn't trust me enough to not be like your old man!" As soon as the words had left his lips, Jake regretted them. It was only there briefly, but there was no way Jake could've missed the momentary flash of deep hurt that flickered across Calleigh's eyes.

But it was gone as soon as it had appeared, replaced by the fire Jake had always known never to cross. "Fine," she said quietly, dangerously. "You know what, Jake? I _didn't_ trust you! Okay? I admit it – I _didn't _trust you!" The telltale sting of tears was beginning to prick her eyes, and Calleigh turned her back to him, unwilling to cry at all, but even more unwilling to let him see her cry. "You were always lying to me, but I accepted it as part of your job. You couldn't tell me what you were doing, or where you were going, and I understood that. But you were never home when you told me you would be home. You left me in the earliest hours of the morning, leaving me to wonder where the hell you'd run off to when I woke up alone those mornings. You _repeatedly_ chose your career over our relationship, even in the times when I needed you with me more than anything!"

Jake gaped. "Calleigh, you _always_ told me to go! You told me you'd be okay." So desperately he tried to ignore the pain that had hit him like a slap to the face at her unwelcome revelation. _She didn't trust him_.

"What was I supposed to do, Jake?" She threw up her hands in surrender as she turned once more to face him, unknowingly plunging a thousand hot knives straight into Jake's heart. He could so clearly see the unshed tears in her eyes, and he could see the resolve with which she was holding them back. It killed him that he was doing this to her; never mind the fact that he'd been doing this to her for years without fully knowing the impact. "What was I supposed to do?" she repeated. "Was I supposed to break down and cry and beg for you not to leave me? Was I supposed to admit that watching you walk away from me for God only knew how long was killing me? Was I supposed to tell you how many sleepless nights I spent wondering whether you were alive or dead, or whether you were ever coming home again?" She paused to take a much needed breath. Her heart was pounding erratically against her chest, and her entire body trembled with the force of this admission. "Would any of that have made you stay?" she continued, her voice noticeably softer.

If ever there was a question that sent his heart tumbling through the shredder, that was it. How could he answer that? He _couldn't_ have stayed with her; his entire life had been out of his hands. He'd had no choice. He'd had to leave her and go undercover just so he'd know for a fact that she was safe. "Calleigh, it wasn't that easy," he replied, his voice strained. "It's never that easy."

Calleigh gave a bitter, pained laugh. "Yes it was, Jake. It was, and it is. All it is is a choice between us and your undercover work. And you chose work over us every single time!" Calleigh breathed in deeply, feeling every emotion that she'd felt a decade ago come back to her. "How could I trust you with anything back then, Jake?" she asked, feeling as though her heart were locked tightly in a vice. "I never knew if I was ever going to see you again."

In her voice was the slightest, almost imperceptible tremble, and Jake had to lower his eyes, unable to look at her. "I'm sorry, Calleigh," he said quietly, fidgeting with his hands. He wanted to break down himself, this was hurting him that much.

But what tore at him even more was the lack of faith in Calleigh's reply. "Are you?" She didn't give Jake a chance to reply. "Are you keeping any other secrets from me?

Jake stared. "Calleigh, that's not fair."

Calleigh raised a challenging eyebrow. "It's not?" she asked, giving a disbelieving chuckle. "I cannot believe you're the one standing here telling me what's fair and what's not. You knew exactly what you were doing, all those years ago. I never knew how I was going to make it through another day, let alone the nights. You knew exactly what you were doing and where you were going this time, and you chose to lie to me! I thought you were off taking care of your sick dad while you were really off doing whatever the hell you were doing. And then I found that envelope, and I discovered that you _still _can't turn your back on that secret life of yours. Your work means more to you than I ever did. _That's_ what's not fair, Jake," Calleigh finished, unable to stop the true depth of her pain from showing through in her words.

"The only reason I chose my career over you is because I had no choice!" Jake shouted, frustration in every fiber of his being. "I didn't know what to do. I wasn't much more than just a kid back then. I made a lot of mistakes, Calleigh, and I'd take every one of them back if it meant I could fix everything I ever put you through. And _that…_that's not a lie, Calleigh."

"But you're doing the same thing now!" Calleigh protested, feeling almost ready to rip her hair out. She didn't understand any of this. He was sorry, but he was doing everything he'd done before? He would take everything back, but in the present he was still doing everything the same way? She was so confused, so torn. Nothing was ever certain with this man; Calleigh never knew what to expect. But this time, she had thought she could take a chance with him by expecting the positive. And now, it was just like a decade ago. "You lied to me; you _hurt_ me, just so you could keep your secrets safe!"

"I lied to you because I _didn't_ want to hurt you! Why can't you see that?" Jake persisted, his eyes begging her to see the truth. But inside, he knew that she wouldn't be able to see it fully unless he told her everything. And even telling her this much had been harder than he'd thought. He didn't know if he could find the words to tell her the rest. He didn't know if she would even let him reveal the rest.

"Because that doesn't make sense, Jake!" Calleigh felt her fists clench at her sides as she tried to control her shaky hands. "You _know_ me. You _know_ how hard it was for me to trust you with my past. And you're the _only_ one I've trusted with that! I trusted you, and you just proved that I was right for_ not_ trusting you before!" She paused for a moment, staring Jake down, just daring him to reply. She was hurt, yes, but she was also angry. She would yell and push him out of her home before she would crumble into his arms and cry. That was just how Calleigh was. "Now I need you to tell me the truth, Jake," she continued, the seriousness in her eyes plainly evident. "What else are you keeping from me?"

Jake sighed, deeply pained. "Calleigh…"

"I'm serious, Jake. Are you keeping anything else from me?"

He still hadn't told her the main part of his past, the reasoning for everything he'd done. He still kept to himself the fact that she was the reason he'd cracked under pressure, that the idea of her ever being in any kind of danger made him sick to his stomach. He had yet to reveal to her that every decision he'd made, he'd made with her best interests in his heart. And, most importantly, he had yet to tell her _why_. He had yet to tell her his deepest, most sincere truth, the truth that he'd only been brave enough to utter once she had been sound asleep in his arms. He needed to tell her that.

But as closed-off as Calleigh was currently, Jake knew she'd never believe he'd done everything he'd done because of his love for her. It would only push her further away. All Jake could do now was brace himself for the continued fallout of lying to her, of keeping secrets for ten years.

She wouldn't accept his apologies, not now.

He'd expected the yelling; he'd expected the anger. But what broke his heart the most was the way his tired beauty's shoulders eventually slumped, and a defeated flicker flashed through her beautiful green eyes. Her anger was breaking, making way for her heartbreak to reach the surface. And when finally she lifted her gaze back to his, the broken look in those gorgeous orbs made him feel like the worst person on the face of the planet, knowing he'd put that pain there. "So I guess you've made your decision?" she asked quietly.

"My decision?" Jake croaked out, his mouth painfully dry.

Calleigh nodded, pursing her lips. "Yeah, your decision. You can't have both." She hesitated for a moment, weighing the true impact of her ultimatum before offering it up to him. "So what's it going to be? Me, or your undercover life?"

"Damn it, Calleigh," Jake murmured. It was an impossible decision – not because it was a decision he couldn't make, but because he knew which one he wanted. It just so happened that his path had been set out for him a long time ago, and not by him. "You read those papers, didn't you?"

A terse nod was his only answer. "Then you know that it's just one assignment. Once that one is done, then I'm done. I'm out. I can come home to you."

Blinking furiously, Calleigh bit at her lip. He hadn't answered, but in evading the question, he'd given her all the answer she'd ever needed. "It was always just one more assignment with you, Jake."

Jake let out an exasperated breath. "Calleigh, this time it's really just one more assignment. Once I'm done with this one, then this blackmail thing…it's over. It's the deal I made." Actually, it was the deal that had been made for him; Jake had just been forced to accept it. But how else was he going to clear away his past? "Look, beautiful, I need you to trust me on this, okay?" he coaxed softly, taking a tentative step toward her.

Calleigh gave a bitter laugh, avoiding his eyes as though looking into them would be her downfall. "Why, so you can lie to me again?" Jake opened his mouth to protest, but Calleigh was quick to cut him off. "You know what, Jake? I'm done. I can't do this again. I _won't._" Feeling her eyes begin to sting once more, she ducked her head, pushing past him before he could touch her. What she needed was to have her back to him; she needed to know he couldn't stare directly into her soul, through the deepest realm of her vulnerability. She needed distance.

But Jake was faster than her; he'd always been faster than her. "Please don't walk away from me, Calleigh," he very nearly begged, catching her by the shoulders. Having not the energy to fight him, she stopped, but he felt her stiffen as he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her soft, golden locks. "I never wanted to hurt you, sweetheart…"

"Don't call me that," Calleigh said quietly, the warning in her voice undeniable. She held her entire body stiffly still, refusing to shiver at the sensation of being in his arms. She couldn't let herself enjoy that.

It was a slap to the face, hearing those words from her lips. Jake faltered, feeling any words he might've said to her die upon his lips. It was far too soon for his liking that she began to struggle against his embrace, extricating herself from his arms, leaving him feeling strangely empty.

Her back to him, Calleigh called upon her final bit of strength and resolve, knowing she'd need both to carry her through the next few moments. Jake had made his decision. She had made hers. He had chosen his undercover work. She had chosen not to take the emotional beating of waiting to see if he would actually come home to her.

Now, only one decision remained, and it fell to Calleigh's hands. Summoning her voice, she blinked furiously, pushing back the tears before she allowed herself to speak. "You should go now," she said quietly, barely louder than a whisper.

The confusion slammed into him like a freight train. "Go?" he asked, hoping she wasn't saying what he thought she was saying. But the chances of that were rather slim; she had said before that she was done. "Calleigh, what –"

"I said, I think you should leave," she said, more firmly than before. "You can get your stuff tomorrow."

"Calleigh, please," he murmured, closing the distance between them. Didn't she realize how badly this was killing him? Even his own eyes felt strangely full, the corners of them burning. He lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Calleigh abruptly pulled away from him, as though his touch had burned her. "I said get out, Jake! I don't want you here!"

She had expected him to lash out at her. Yell at her, argue with her. Hell, she'd even expected him to grab her shoulders, spin her around and kiss her soundly on the mouth before he did what he actually did. Instead of responding verbally, he obliged her request.

What else could he do? Everything he'd said or done today had hurt her, and that in turn had broken his own heart.

Her back turned, she felt his presence grow farther and farther away from her. She heard him pick up his keys from the kitchen counter. She felt his footsteps as they grew near to her, and moved past her. It hit her then; he was actually, honestly leaving.

Did Calleigh want to stop him?

Would it matter if she did?

She allowed those questions to fade away unanswered as she braced herself for the sound of the front door slamming. She was prepared for that, she could handle that.

But what Calleigh heard was the soft, hollow click of a door closed in defeat, in heartbreak. It was a sound that echoed loudly through her ears, but as it quickly faded, it left behind the unbearable reality of being completely and truly alone.

Jake was gone.

Gone.

Reaching out, Calleigh braced herself against the wall as that truth sank into her with a vengeance. She'd forced Jake away, and he hadn't been angry; he'd been heartbroken. And then, there was the way she felt…how _did_ Calleigh feel? Not even she knew, but whatever it was didn't feel good, that was for certain.

Turning slowly, Calleigh rested her back against the wall with a deep sigh, trying her best to ignore the trembling that began in her fingers and slowly progressed throughout the rest of her body. With everything within her, she concentrated solely on taking deep, steady breaths.

_Breathe in, breathe out._

But the resolve that she had held so tightly to was only so strong. As soon as her ears registered the fading sound of his car as he drove away from her, Calleigh could stand tall no longer. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but it did nothing to muffle the sob that escaped her lips.

He was really gone.

_And now, you may never see him again._

"Oh God," she mumbled, suddenly as nauseous as she'd been the night before. Her knees buckled beneath her, and Calleigh slowly allowed her body to sink to the cold floor below. But the cold never even registered to her, for her body was already numb.

Her mind was suddenly flooded with images of the night that she had let him back into her life. She could still see that night so viscerally, standing with him on the other side of her front door, the door which she'd opened so willingly for him. She'd trusted him; she'd let him back in.

And then, it was as though that trust meant nothing. He'd violated it, probably just as easily as he'd violated it before.

She had trusted him with the darkest secrets of her past, willingly. And yet, he hadn't revealed his secrets to her until she'd been forced to pry them out. Was he ever going to trust her with them if she hadn't found that envelope? Did her trust, or their relationship, mean anything to him at all?

Despite the strength that she had prided herself in keeping for so long, Calleigh couldn't seem to find the energy to keep that wall from finally crumbling. She'd kicked him out; she'd thought it was the best thing to do for herself. Ending things had seemed like the only way she could take back her own control.

But regaining control over her emotions did not mean sinking to the floor as the tears finally spilled from her eyes. And once those first tears had broken through, Calleigh was defenseless to stop them. They'd been held back for far too long, and Calleigh just didn't have the strength to continue holding them back. And she couldn't deny the fact that she already missed Jake.

They began slowly, mere tears slipping silently from her eyes. But with those tears flowed memories; it was as though she had a photo album right there in her mind, showing her everything she'd had with Jake, past and present. Everything she'd given up, twice.

But he'd _lied_ to her, not just twice. Calleigh wasn't sure if she'd ever know how many times he'd lied to her; how many secrets he'd kept from her. All she knew now, as the sobs began to wrack her tiny frame, was how deeply it hurt. It was as though he'd repeatedly plunged a knife into her before leaving her cold and broken on the floor.

She'd thought she could do this. She'd thought this would be better for her, for both of them.

Calleigh had thought nothing could hurt as badly as walking away from him ten years ago had hurt.

She'd been wrong.


	26. Failure Repeated

**_Chapter Twenty-Six_**  
_**Failure Repeated**  
-**  
**_

_"This is it, Cal," Jake said enthusiastically, carelessly stuffing a few shirts into his oversized duffel bag. He would swear his fingers were shaking with pure excitement, pure adrenaline. "This is the one; I know it!"_

_From her tense perch on the bed, Calleigh gave a soft sigh. She had been through this same conversation, this same scenario, way too many times. And each time, it only became more and more tiring. Calleigh knew she should close herself off from it and simply go through the motions, but she just couldn't seem to detach herself fully. She couldn't distance herself from all the emotion._

_It had been only minutes before that Jake had gotten the call. A late afternoon storm was battering the world outside, and the two of them had simply relaxed themselves on the bed, simply listening to the thunder and the rain, much as they often did during a storm. But this time was different. Instead of sharing the center of the bed, Calleigh had occupied one side, and Jake the other. Instead of Calleigh snuggling deep into Jake's embrace, she kept her distance, her eyes locked on the ceiling above._

_It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the fact that this was turning into their usual routine. There was a distance growing ever wider between them, and Calleigh was afraid that it was growing so wide and so quickly that nothing could ever bridge that gap again._

_Calleigh had tried. She didn't want to lose Jake, but she couldn't do everything herself. It was physically exhausting, not to mention what it did to her emotionally. She didn't want to lose him, but at this point, he was too far gone for her to get him back._

_He wasn't in a relationship with her anymore. He was in a relationship with his work. If Calleigh'd had any doubt of that fact, it would've been confirmed just moments ago, when Jake had answered the phone. He'd jumped up from the bed, a definite spring in his step. The phone call had sparked something within him; something that hadn't been there when he'd laid down with Calleigh. And now, there was the excitement with which he spoke, while Calleigh sat stiffly on the bed behind him, wishing just once more that she could find the man that she'd cared for so deeply._

_Mere steps away, Jake was oblivious. "We've finally got enough information out of these guys. Now we just have to get in there and hope everything else goes right. If it does, then we can finally bust 'em! I've been waiting for this one…"_

_Absently, Calleigh plucked at a stray string on the bedspread. "How long do you think you'll be gone this time?" she asked, half of her not wanting to know this answer. But the other half of her knew that if she didn't know, she would drive herself crazy with the what-ifs of the situation._

_Jake never even looked up. His voice remained excited as his attention remained on his packing. "I don't know, Cal. A few weeks, maybe? Everything has to be perfect before we can really move in on these guys."_

_Despite the fact that Jake was still being forced into his undercover work, even he was not immune to the thrill that came with being so close. So close to finishing a case, so close to seeing all of his work come to an apex. At that point, Jake couldn't help but fall victim to the adrenaline rush. He couldn't help truly stepping into the movie, the movie in which he was the protagonist; he was the hero. Failure was not an option, not for him. Never for him._

_After all, failure could mean losing the woman behind him. For every assignment that he took, he was screwed if everything didn't work out perfectly. If he refused the assignment, Calleigh could be in danger, thanks to his moment of weakness in the interrogation room not so long ago. If he failed an assignment, it would probably be failure by death. These assignments had stopped being safe a long time ago for Jake. He'd had his fair share of guns to his head and knives wielded in his direction. But instead of scaring him, it only made his drive for success that much stronger. He only had to think about what his death might do to Calleigh, and that was enough to keep him believing that failure was never an option._

_It wasn't an option he could live with, nor was it an option he would force Calleigh to deal with._

_Failure, however, doesn't limit itself to job performance. On the bed, Calleigh bit her lip, trying her best to ignore the stinging sensation that began to prick at the corners of her eyes. If there was anything she'd learned in the three years she'd spent with him, it was that crying never made a difference. It only made her feel weak and undeserving, just as it had when she was a child. Swallowing the rapidly forming lump in her throat, Calleigh dropped her gaze to the floor, for it was far less painful to concentrate on than Jake's packing. "But what about us, Jake?" she asked softly, afraid to lift her eyes to him, for fear that her heart would shatter completely._

_Jake was puzzled, but didn't falter in his packing. "Us?"_

_Calleigh frowned. His simple, one word reply had been more painful than she'd been prepared for. "You and me, Jake." And finally Jake paused, turning to face Calleigh. The blank expression, however, remained on his face, and Calleigh shook her head, biting her lip. How much of a reminder did the man need? No, there was a better question - how much of a reminder should she even be forced to give him? "This week was supposed to be about us," she pressed once more, her emerald eyes staring intently into his deep brown ones, still seeing absolutely no comprehension. And there was where her heart fell to pieces. He didn't remember. Shaking her head, Calleigh hopped up from the bed, swiftly making her way out of the bedroom. "Just forget it."_

_Jake stood, confusion rapidly settling over him. What was Calleigh talking about?_

_And suddenly, it hit him. This week was supposed to be about nothing but them, nothing but their relationship, or what was left of it. Both of them had scooped into their supply of vacation days, just so they could spend one quiet week together. Their relationship had been on rocky footing for a couple of months now, and this week, they were supposed to try and fix it._

_Calleigh had only wanted a few hours of uninterrupted attention from him so they could talk. But Jake had insisted on taking her away. Somewhere warm, relaxing, and most of all, private. He knew that their relationship was hanging by a thread, and so he'd made the reservations. They were supposed to spend this week together, with nobody else, on a small, quaint Caribbean island. No cell phones, no outside contact, no distractions other than each other…it was the vacation that they both needed. It was the chance to show Calleigh what she really, truly meant to him. They both needed this; to get away from work and their everyday lives, for the sake of saving their relationship._

_But now, not only was Jake leaving for an assignment, but he had forgotten about this week completely. Forgetting about his packing, he followed Calleigh to the den, quickly trying to find a way to rectify this. Alas, there was nothing that came to him. This time, he had screwed up dearly._

_And this time, as his gut feeling told him, dearly would he pay._

_As Calleigh finally stopped, Jake cringed, as even from behind he could discern the stiffness of her body. There was no relaxation in any part of her. He knew she was primed and ready for that fight-or-flight instinct to take over. And with Calleigh, Jake knew it would probably be a combination of both._

_Gingerly he reached out, gently brushing his fingertips over her elbow. "Calleigh, baby, I'm so sorry," he murmured._

_She jerked away from him, almost as though burned by his touch. "I said forget about it. That should come easily to you," she all but growled, refusing to look at him._

_Her reaction stunned him, even though he probably should've expected it. "Calleigh –"_

_"Look, you don't have to apologize," Calleigh interrupted. Empty apologies she could do without. Jake's apologies never meant anything; a week after apologizing, he was always right back to doing the very thing he'd apologized for in the first place. "It's not like I'm not used to you forgetting things."_

_Jake blinked. If he hadn't been thoroughly confused before, he was now. "Cal, this is the only thing I've forgotten," he protested. Still, he couldn't help wracking his brain, trying to find anything else he might've forgotten. He found nothing._

_"One thing, right," Calleigh scoffed. "What about last month, huh? Do you remember that?"_

_He searched deeper into the depths of his mind, but it was all to no avail. "Calleigh, I –"_

_"Our anniversary, Jake!" Calleigh cried, the anger in her eyes finding itself pushed away by heartbreak. "I wasn't going to make a big deal about it, because I never know when you're going to be called away. I would've been happy to let it go with a small dinner, maybe a tiny celebration. But you insisted. You told me you would be here, that you wouldn't miss it for the world." Calleigh rubbed furiously at her eyes, feeling the telltale sting of tears. "And for some reason, I guess I believed you."_

_Jake hung his head. He'd forgotten about their anniversary completely. And he'd been so excited about it. True, Calleigh hadn't wanted to make a big deal out of it, but Jake had. Three months before that date, he'd found his way into a jewelry store. At first, he'd merely been killing time. But then he'd found it – a piece that just seemed so perfect for Calleigh. It was a simple but elegant diamond necklace, and as soon as he'd seen it, he knew it belonged around Calleigh's neck. He could imagine just how beautiful she would look wearing it._

_And so he'd bought it, planning to surprise her with it the night of their anniversary._

_But instead, it still resided in the box in which it had come. It was still hidden, where Calleigh wouldn't inadvertently find it, but also where, apparently, Jake simply forgot about it. He knew it was really no excuse, but the few weeks leading up to their anniversary had been stressful on him. He'd had to leave on assignment, leaving Calleigh in the middle of the night. And even though he'd promised, he never made it home in time for their anniversary._

_Taking a step toward her, Jake was dying to reach out to her, but he knew that would only make the situation worse at this point. "Calleigh –"_

_"I'm not finished, Jake." Calleigh clenched her fists, desperately trying to stop the shaking of her fingers. She'd had enough of this. Since she had begun dating Jake, she'd lost several weeks of sleep; she'd lost far too much weight. She'd lost so much of her sanity that it was a miracle she could even begin to hold everything together. She was tired of falling apart. She didn't want to lose Jake, but the relationship was just far too destructive on her. "You forgot our anniversary. You finally came home three weeks after our anniversary, and you never even said a word about it. I did so much to try and make that night special, because you made it sound like it meant something to you. And now, the one week we've both set aside to try and fix things…you forgot about that too." She paused, turning finally to face Jake. The anger in her eyes was unavoidable. "What happened to what you told me months ago, huh? You told me you were done, remember? Or did you forget that too?"_

_Jake couldn't help feeling his own anger surge within him. Even though Calleigh's accusations were true, and she had the right to feel that way, Jake still couldn't help feeling defensive of every move he'd made. "Walking away isn't that easy, Cal," he snapped, crossing his arms defensively. "It takes time."_

_"Six months?" Calleigh yelled, incredulous. "Look, Jake, if you were lying to me, then why don't you just come clean? Or, why don't you answer this one? Do you even want to be with me at all?"_

_Jake gaped. "Calleigh, of course I want to be with you! Why do you think I'm with you right now?"_

_"Oh, so you want to be with me, but only when you can't be out on the streets, pretending to be somebody else?"_

_Her words stunned him, but what could he do? Jake couldn't tell her the truth; he couldn't tell her that being away from her was the last place he wanted to be…ever. "That's low, Calleigh," he said quietly, wishing he could convey with his eyes what he truly wanted to say to her._

_"Is it?" Calleigh challenged. "But it's true though, isn't it? You're content to be with me only until some new assignment comes up. I've seen the way you react to those assignments, and it's not at all like the way you act around me. Why don't you go ahead and make your decision already? That way you can spend all your time working, and I won't be wondering why you're never home."_

_"That's not fair, Calleigh," Jake protested. "What would you do if I asked you to choose between me and your career?" Calleigh was silent, obviously thinking. But Jake really didn't want to know the answer, so he pushed forward. "You know how hard I've worked to come this far, both with my job, and with you. I've made major sacrifices for both you and my job. Sometimes that's what we have to do in life to be happy – make sacrifices."_

_Calleigh shook her head. "Do you think I'm happy?" she cried, staring Jake directly in the eyes. "I've made sacrifices, and all it seems to do is make things worse. Well, you know what, Jake? I'm tired of making worthless sacrifices. I've never asked you to choose before; all I ever wanted was for you to care about me more than that damn job of yours!"_

_Her words pierced him right through the heart. All Jake wanted to do was rush forward and gather her into his arms and tell her the whole truth, but that wasn't something he could risk. And he knew Calleigh wasn't going to believe any more half-truths. She wouldn't believe that he cared so deeply for her if he made no effort to distance himself from the job. And that wasn't something he could do, not now._

_If only he'd gotten out before digging too deep a hole. If only he'd gotten away before the issue with Sam._

_Jake could've been a free man. He could've moved forward in his life with Calleigh, without the threat of having their relationship used against him. There was no other feeling for this – Jake completely hated doing this to Calleigh, to them. She deserved better than this._

_But what else could he give her? Jake had practically given up his freedom for her. He couldn't transfer out, and he couldn't refuse or defer assignments to somebody else. Whenever he tried, he was greeted by a brand new picture of Calleigh, suggesting that she was always being followed. And that bothered Jake deeply enough, but hearing over and over what his corrupted UC superiors could do to Calleigh, or how they could sabotage her career in order to coerce him into taking the assignment was far too much. He didn't want to imagine it; he would rather die than play a part in Calleigh's own demise; her own failure. Jake had already failed; why should Calleigh have to pay for it? Why should Calleigh have anything to do with this at all?_

_Too late he realized that he hadn't refuted Calleigh's claim when he should've. Calleigh bit her lip, shaking her head. "You know what?" she began, and Jake felt his heart clench as her eyes became glassy, reddened. "Fine. If you won't choose, then I have to." Her vision blurring, Calleigh dropped her gaze, unable to make herself meet his eyes any longer._

_Jake's mouth was dry as the implications of that statement began to set in. "What do you mean, you have to choose?" he asked hoarsely, afraid of the answer._

_Calleigh gave a low, bitter laugh. "What else could it possibly mean, Jake?" As she'd expected, he didn't answer. Calleigh sighed; she was tired of having to spell everything out for him. "I've got a life and a career too, Jake," she said quietly, wringing her hands lightly. "I'm not going to throw them away for someone who won't even be here for me." The words sounded selfish to her own ears, but Calleigh couldn't bring herself to care about that. She was tired of everything being about Jake. She was fifty percent of this relationship; why shouldn't she have a say in what happens?_

_Jake was floored. Floored, and absolutely frightened. Could she really mean what he thought she meant? "Calleigh, I don't –"_

_"I'm done, Jake. Do you get it now? I'm done with this." They were the hardest words she'd ever had to say, each one ripping at her heart. "I can't take this anymore. I don't even know why I bothered to stay this long; we fell apart a long time ago, Jake."_

_She started to walk away, but Jake reached out, gently touching her elbow. "Calleigh, wait. Please," he all but begged. His heart was being pulled to shreds within his chest, but he honestly didn't know what to do. He just knew that he did not want her to walk away from him. Jake wasn't sure if he could handle that. "We can fix this, beautiful. This assignment shouldn't take long; I'm this close to securing the indictments I need. It shouldn't be long at all before I'm home this time."_

_But Calleigh had made up her mind. Despite the tears that pricked her eyes, she refused to give in. She was done. "Good, then," she said coldly. It was the only way she could keep her tears from showing in her voice. "Just don't expect me to be here waiting for you when you get back."_

_**..**  
_

Storm clouds were beginning to gather overhead, but Jake didn't care. At the moment, he didn't care about anything, not even the amount of high-priced gasoline that he was wasting just by driving around the city. Even though he knew it was dangerous, he also couldn't seem to put his entire attention toward the task of driving. And a difficult task it was; he'd driven these streets numerous times, and he knew them like the back of his hand, but with every mile that took him farther and farther away from Calleigh, Jake could feel his heart clench just a little tighter. If walking away from her had nearly killed him, then driving away from her might as well have finished the job. Barely alive he felt; numb, except when it came to guilt. And _that_ he certainly felt plenty of.

With a vengeance, his hands gripped the wheel, finding himself unable to loosen his grasp. He was frustrated, and that was the only way his body knew to deal with that frustration. His life was currently in shambles; he'd lost the one thing that had always been most important to him.

Now, the only thing he had left to lose was his own life, however morbid the idea seemed.

_And I may just end up losing that too._

A bitter laugh escaped him. Even when he tried to do the right thing, he still managed to screw everything up. And Calleigh still didn't know the entire truth. Now, he would probably never get the chance to tell her everything. Even if he did get that chance, there was a very low likelihood that she would listen; let alone believe what he had to say.

In his mind, he could still see her, her back turned resolutely to him, her shoulders slumped just slightly, revealing the depth of her sense of defeat. It was the same sense of defeat that Jake himself had felt, and that had driven him in his decision to walk away from her.

It was over; they were done. Calleigh had made that more than clear to him. He had no right to stay there any longer. And so, he had left, quietly closing the front door behind him.

Now, though, that felt like by far the worst decision he had ever made. Calleigh meant everything to him; he _loved_ her. And yet, he'd given up, just because she'd told him to go away. Now, walking away seemed ridiculous to him.

_Why did I ever, ever walk away from her?_

It was all Jake could do to keep from hitting his head against the steering wheel. When he'd closed her front door, he'd closed the proverbial door on their relationship. He hadn't fought as hard as he could have, but then again, he didn't think that would've made too much of a difference. Calleigh was set in her ways; when she decided something, that was it. Only rarely did she end up relenting, changing her mind. And when Jake had left, Calleigh had been far too hurt to break down in her defenses and listen to him.

Another deep stab of guilt hit him, right in the heart. Calleigh had been truly hurt. Not just now, but in the past, too. Jake had done the same things that he'd done before. He'd told her he loved her – albeit while she was sleeping, but he'd told her all the same – but his actions contradicted his words. He had lied to her, and in her eyes, he'd once more chosen his career instead of their relationship, instead of her. She would never believe that he didn't want any of this, not in the slightest.

_I should have told her everything in the beginning._

But in which beginning? The answer was blindingly obvious, staring at Jake like the red in the traffic light that had stopped him. He should've told her everything ten years ago, when he'd first landed in scalding hot water. One thing he hadn't been lying about, though, was that the reason was never a matter of his trust in her. He'd wanted to keep her safe, out of any kind of trouble. If he'd told her back then about what he'd watched Sam do, and then later it came out that she knew about it and covered for Jake, she could've been charged. Jake knew how much her career meant to her, how hard she had worked to get that far. The last thing he ever wanted was to play any kind of role in destroying all that.

_I should've told her months ago, then._

But instead, he'd lied to her again. And he'd continued to lie to her, even after Calleigh had trusted him with her own darkest secrets. He knew that played a huge role in why Calleigh was so deeply hurt right now. Trust had always been a big deal for her. She never gave her trust easily, and Jake had betrayed that trust multiple times. He couldn't count how many times he'd lied to her, or hidden the truth from her. If Calleigh ever trusted anything he had to say again, it would be a miracle.

Flashing lights caught Jake's attention, bringing him back to the present. Up ahead, right in the middle of the road, was a serious wreck. The road was clearly blocked, and an officer was directing cars to another road, a detour. "Great," Jake murmured, his frustration growing even more. His entire day was already ruined, and now he couldn't even take the simple way to his apartment. He knew the detour; it would take him ten minute out of his way. It was the last thing he needed on a day like today.

And then, just as if to spite him, the sky opened up. Fat raindrops fell upon his windshield, accenting the crack of thunder that sounded in the distance. Jake gave a deep groan, wishing that he could seriously just sink into the ground and disappear. Why couldn't anything ever be simple?

_Why couldn't love ever be simple?_

The question hit him out of nowhere. There was no doubt in his mind that he was in love with Calleigh. In his life, he'd been with plenty of women, but nobody had ever gotten into his head and into his heart like Calleigh had. He didn't care about anybody else like he'd always cared about Calleigh.

So why couldn't he ever make this work? Were there just too many secrets between them? Not enough trust? Or did Calleigh just not feel the same as he did?

Had she never been as invested in their relationship as he had?

Had Jake taken that endless fall into love alone?

It was a good thing that he was pulling into the parking lot at his apartment, because that was the question that finally got to him. Cutting off the engine, Jake rested his head against the steering wheel, listening to the raindrops hit the roof of the car. He felt his anger and frustration replaced with sheer pain, and suddenly he wondered if he could even find the strength to get out of the car.

Love unrequited. Nothing was worse than that. While he was here in the parking lot, nursing a broken heart, Calleigh might very well be picking up the pieces, before tossing them out and getting ready to start again, with somebody else.

Maybe it had been a sign, all those months ago, when the universe seemed to be completely against the idea of him taking Calleigh to dinner. But Jake had persisted, and he'd thought Calleigh had been happy with him. He'd thought Calleigh wanted to be with him.

Had he been sorely wrong?

Maybe he _should've _backed off after that first dinner date they'd had to cancel. It wouldn't have helped Jake; he would've still longed to be with Calleigh, but at least then he wouldn't have had to lie to her. Most importantly, he wouldn't have had the chance to hurt her again. It wouldn't have done anything to help his own heart, but at least he could've kept Calleigh's intact.

The rain was now falling with a vengeance, but Jake didn't care as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. As far as he was concerned, he deserved to feel the chill that came from being soaked clear to the bone. He deserved the annoyance that came from the feeling of raindrops falling on his head, matting down his unruly hair. He deserved to feel the burn as the raindrops seeped into his eyes, blurring his vision.

He was the one who deserved to be hurting. Not Calleigh. Never Calleigh.

Sighing deeply, Jake fished his key out of his pocket. In his hand, it felt completely foreign to him. It had been so long since he'd used that key; so long since he'd been back to this place.

There was nothing special about the apartment complex. Originally, Jake hadn't planned to stay this long in Miami, and he hadn't had the money nor the desire to find someplace where he could really get comfortable. And by the time he realized he would be staying in Miami, he was already spending most of his nights with Calleigh. It wasn't a bad place, though. It was in a respectable part of town, and it was quite nice on the inside. One bedroom, one bathroom, a small kitchen and an even smaller living room – what more did Jake need?

Fumbling for a moment with the unfamiliar door, Jake finally pushed his way inside, finding himself greeted by the dimmest of lights and a musty scent. He could practically see the dust fly up around him as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. It was obvious that the place hadn't been lived in for months; it hadn't been cleaned in even longer than that.

_If Calleigh only knew, she would have a meltdown._

Jake almost allowed himself a chuckle, but it died before ever reaching his lips. How was he ever going to be able to live anywhere when everything made him think of Calleigh? With a sigh, Jake reached out to the light switch on the wall, frowning when nothing happened. Frustrated, he switched it on and off a few more times, each time still to no avail. The apartment remained shrouded in nothing more than the low light shining through the windows. Groaning, Jake rubbed at his tired eyes as he realized that he'd probably neglected to pay his last couple of electric bills.

_This day just keeps getting better and better._

Not caring at all where they landed, Jake tossed his keys away, hearing them land heavily on the floor somewhere to his right. The sound echoed hollowly through his too empty apartment, reminding him once more that it was a place which he might as well have forgotten that it existed.

Numbly Jake trudged his way into the living room, finding his way only by the slim amount of light that flowed in, along with the occasional flash of lightning outside. Out of habit, he grabbed the television remote off of the coffee table, jabbing almost angrily at the power button before remembering that it too worked off of electricity.

No lights, no television, and he didn't even want to think about what had been happening in his refrigerator over the past few months. That just wasn't something he wanted to deal with.

He needed a distraction, but all he had was himself and the darkness, not to mention his own dark thoughts. Without any kind of distraction, they overcame him, pushing his entire being into the kind of dark solitude he'd only felt once before in his life, after the first time he'd failed her.

Closing his eyes, Jake gave into those dark thoughts, unable to find the strength to ward them off. They mixed with the confusion and doubt that already clouded his mind, leaving him unsure of everything, unable to decipher the true meaning of most of those thoughts. But despite all that, as Jake collapsed defeatedly into a dusty armchair, there remained one thing that he did know with absolute certainty.

This wasn't home.

This was _never _home to him.


	27. The Search for Closure

_**Chapter Twenty-Seven**_  
**_The Search for Closure_  
- **

Her eyes had long since emptied of the last of her tears, leaving Calleigh in a dull, numbed state. For the longest time, she couldn't think. She couldn't move. As the storm clouds outside rolled in, all Calleigh could do was sit numbly on the floor, her knees to her chest and her head rested against the wall, not even startling when the thunder began to crash overhead.

What was this feeling? It wasn't the sense of control that Calleigh knew so well, the sense of control she'd expected to regain once more. If she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that she felt _less _in control than before. She felt reckless; crazy, even. And she wasn't even doing anything.

In the span of less than two days, her entire world had spun out of control. Her foundation had crumbled right out from under her; everything she'd thought she'd known had crashed down around her.

And it hurt _so_ much more than she would ever admit aloud.

Her legs shook as she slowly pulled herself to her feet. She bit her lip, the physical pain only barely breaking through the numbness. It was an emptiness that disturbed her, even frightened her. She needed to feel something, anything. She needed closure, and she needed it on her terms.

Sure, she'd ended it with Jake, but the door wasn't completely closed. It couldn't be, not while Jake's presence was still so prominent everywhere she looked. She knew he would be coming by to collect his things tomorrow, probably. Hopefully while she wasn't there. Calleigh wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him again like that, so soon, and in her home. She also wasn't comfortable with him going through every room of her condo as he collected his things. At this point, she didn't want to allow him any type of intimacy.

She knew what she had to do, but that didn't mean she would be able to do it, nor did it mean she really wanted to.

What she had to do, she told herself as she slowly made her way to her bedroom, was open the door to that closure. She couldn't let closure in if it was still as though Jake lived with her. It would be just like cleaning, she reasoned. Something to concentrate on while fighting the ever present urge to fall apart. Her plan of action was to go through every room of her condo, removing every last trace of Jake, beginning with the room in which his presence was the greatest – her bedroom.

Calleigh hardly knew where to begin. She knew she would have to strip the bed, for his scent lingered deep within the sheets, the pillows. If she were to lay down right now, Calleigh knew the memories that would accost her would be deeply painful. She would have to wash everything thoroughly, and even then, she would probably just replace those sheets with new sheets.

But for now, she let that task slide. Changing the bedsheets would do no good at all if Jake still lingered elsewhere in the room. Calleigh knew she would have to begin with his clothes.

Her hands shook ever slightly as she pulled open the dresser, revealing the clothes that had taken residence there. It was the entire opposite of what anybody would find in Calleigh's own drawers. Calleigh's clothes were folded, organized. Shirts for lounging around the apartment were placed in one drawer, and blouses for work were placed in another drawer, but only if Calleigh was satisfied that they wouldn't be wrinkled. Otherwise, they were hung in the closet. Every one of her drawers had an almost meticulous method of organization about them.

But the drawers which she had lent to Jake…there was almost no organization. T-shirts were haphazardly stuffed in the drawer, mixed in with undershirts and socks and boxers. All of them, just randomly stuffed into the same drawer. Part of Calleigh was dying to straighten up the drawer, but only the part of her that remained in denial.

With a sigh, she reached into the drawer and pulled out a handful of the assorted clothing items, ready to drop them in the cardboard box at her side. But halfway to the box, Calleigh's arms stilled. Biting her lip, she knew there was no reason why it had to be neat. Jake obviously didn't mind a few wrinkles – and besides, he looked sexy in whatever he wore.

"Stop that," Calleigh berated herself quietly, shaking her head. It was thoughts like that which she wished she could just do away with. They were _done._ She didn't want to see him in her mind. She didn't want to see him at all.

He'd left her, so why couldn't the thoughts of him leave her as well?

Forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand, she carefully folded each of his shirts and placed them gently in the box, ignoring the sting that pricked at her eyes. She had already shed far too many tears over this man. It wasn't worth it. It only left her feeling weak, and she already felt awful for letting herself cry earlier. There was just something about knowing she'd spent the morning crying that ruined the entire rest of her day, regardless of what had happened with Jake.

Soon, the last of the t-shirts was folded and placed in the cardboard box, and the boxers and socks followed next, eventually leaving the drawer completely empty, void of everything. For the briefest second, the sight tugged at Calleigh's heart, but she did not allow herself to linger on that. She had a task to complete, and she couldn't let emotion get in the way of that.

But when Calleigh let her eyes drift over to the box, the shirt on top of the stack caused her breath to catch in her throat. A simple, snug black t-shirt was all it was; there was nothing significant about that, was there? But Calleigh recognized it immediately – it was the shirt he'd been wearing when he'd first crashed back into her life.

She could still see him, standing before her in the warehouse that day. Black t-shirt, leather jacket, cocky saunter in his walk, smirk at his lips. His words were harsh, but in his eyes had been genuine surprise, confusion. He'd never expected to see Calleigh there. And Jake had been the last person Calleigh had ever expected to see again.

When Calleigh had questioned him in the interrogation room later that day, the experience had been more of the same. By his words, he couldn't step out for her. But in his eyes, Calleigh could immediately see the depth of his regret. Would he have "stepped out" under another circumstance? Well, at that time, Calleigh had thought definitely. But now, she wasn't so sure.

As she pulled the shirt from the box, the soft fabric tickling the skin of her hands, the connection she felt to it was more than she could let go of. Maybe eventually she would give it back to him, but for now, it was something she needed to keep, for her own heart. Maybe sleeping in it would help pull her through the sleepless nights she knew were to come.

Ten years ago, she hadn't kept anything of his, and for weeks after they'd ended things, Calleigh had suffered the worst nightmares, the worst bouts of sleeplessness. Perhaps it was the way she had cut him out of her life abruptly, rather than gradually. It had been too much for her heart to handle back then.

She didn't want to go through that again, ever. Tenderly folding the shirt, she placed it back in the drawer, feeling no reason why she shouldn't keep it, at least for a little while.

After all, he wouldn't miss just one shirt, would he?

Closing that drawer, Calleigh shifted her attention to his other drawer, the one in which he'd kept his pants. Khakis, suit pants, blue jeans…Calleigh couldn't help but shiver at the visions that placed themselves in her mind's eye, especially when it came to those jeans.

She was a woman, and she'd certainly been attracted to Jake, so Calleigh couldn't help but remember the way the jeans held snugly to his lower body. Her mind quickly drifted back to the last real moment they'd shared together, that day as they'd walked together on the beach, her hand in his. The kiss they'd shared had been one of the most breathtaking she'd ever experienced with him, and the way he'd held her in his arms had been…honestly, Calleigh had no words to describe how she'd felt that day.

Abruptly, a cold weight fell into the pit of her stomach as the rest of that memory came crashing back to her.

_That was the day he lied to you. _

In truth, Calleigh realized that probably wasn't the only day Jake had lied to her; but it was the one lie she'd caught him in.

Clothes packed away, Calleigh quickly retrieved another box and made her way to the bathroom, knowing that going through there would be just as hard as going through the bedroom had been. There weren't clothes or bedsheets spread throughout the bathroom, but the items that did occupy it were just as affecting, for these were the items that gave Jake a good part of his unique scent.

She allowed herself one quiet moment of reflection before finally making her way inside, setting the box on the counter as mentally she prepared herself.

Slowly and methodically, Calleigh began the task of packing up each of his items from the bathroom, trying desperately not to think about each one too much. All Calleigh wanted was to get this over with; she didn't want to take a journey though all of her memories. But even the smallest, most insignificant things had some of the strongest memories attached, and thus she could find no blessed escape. As she packed away his sparingly-used comb, Calleigh couldn't help but feel the tingle in her fingertips as she remembered the way it felt to thread her fingers through his dark locks. His razor and shaving cream reminded her of the way his stubble would tickle her skin when he kissed her, or when he nuzzled gently against her neck, the very thought sending shivers racing through her entire body. His toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash – Calleigh couldn't keep her eyes from falling closed as the sensations brought on by his kisses washed over her, leaving her missing him even more, but never would she ever admit that.

She hated herself for it, but they were memories that still made her knees weak, still made her tremble. Why did Jake have this power over her? All Calleigh wanted was once and for all to be free of him; free of his lies, free of his choices. She didn't want to deal with the pain anymore. All she wanted was to heal and move on.

With a sigh, Calleigh quickly finished packing up the counter, silently praying that the worst would be over. After all, she'd packed away his clothes, and now most of his things were gone from the bathroom. She was over halfway finished now. Surely it had to get easier.

But as she moved onto the next task, Calleigh found herself dreadfully unprepared for the sheer emotion that crashed over her as she pulled back the shower curtain. Jake had been the last one to take a shower; the tiny, closed-in space was inundated with his scent. It nearly knocked Calleigh to her knees; she found it that overpowering.

On the ledge was what she was looking for – his shampoo and his soap, everything that smelled just like him. Just as Jake had borrowed her shampoo – _"It smells like you," he'd said _– the first time he'd stayed the night, Calleigh was no stranger to stealing his, at least in the past. It wasn't just that she liked the way it smelled; it was the fact that it did smell like him. In the past, it always made her feel like he was closer to her.

Part of her wanted to keep the bottle of shampoo for herself, but she knew she couldn't do that. Calleigh had already given into one weakness in deciding it wouldn't hurt to keep his shirt. That was the only connection she could allow herself to keep. After all, letting go of Jake was the entire point of all this.

But before she could drop the plastic bottle to the box, Calleigh found her hands pausing just mere inches from her face. Before she could stop herself, her fingers were uncapping the top of the bottle, the characteristic popping sound filling her ears before being drowned out by the ever loudening beat of her heart.

Her eyes fell slowly closed as Calleigh brought the bottle in closer to her, squeezing it just slightly as she breathed in deeply, the scent washing over her in crashing waves, awakening the memories, the emotions that Calleigh had tried so desperately to silence.

_The hot water felt good as it flowed over her body, but it didn't feel nearly as wonderful as the pair of arms that had slowly snaked around her from behind. They pulled her tightly against the hard body behind her, and Calleigh couldn't help but let her eyes fall closed as his hands worked their magic over her abdomen and down across her hips. The feeling was further intensified as Jake lowered his head, his lips closing gently over earlobe, eliciting a delicious shiver from the beauty in his arms. His stubble brushed over her skin, leaving her entire body feeling electrified. _

_At this point, only her mind could still remember that she had stepped in for a quick shower, a fact that Calleigh knew wasn't going to happen now. "Jake…" she mumbled, feeling his lips drift away from her ear and make their way slowly to the base of her neck, suckling gently at the skin there. "What are you doing?"_

_Jake lifted his head, and Calleigh squirmed as she heard his low, gravelly tone right by her ear. "Conserving water," he quipped, dropping several kisses to the wet skin beneath Calleigh's ear. The more she tried to squirm her way out of his grasp, the closer he pulled her to him. _

_Calleigh could barely find the air to breathe, let alone to speak. "I don't think…water conservation…is even anywhere near…your mind…" she gasped, feeling her heart race in her chest. _

_Jake smirked. Gently he spun her, backing her slowly against the wall. Calleigh cried out softly, her body protesting to the slight chill of the wall against her back. "Well, I was trying," Jake teased, his fingers gliding effortlessly over her slim sides. He grinned widely as he watched Calleigh struggle to keep her eyes from fluttering closed in delight. "If you weren't so damn sexy, then I'd have no problem saving water."_

_"Oh, so it's my fault?" Calleigh asked, tilting her head playfully as a grin crept over her lips. _

_"Mm, it's all your fault," Jake confirmed with a growl, his eyes travelling appreciatively over the length of her body. _

_Between his obviously appreciative scrutiny and the heat of the shower, Calleigh felt her cheeks tint considerably. Quickly though, she found her own eyes travelling over Jake's body, watching the streams of water cascade over his skin. Water droplets dripped from his dark hair down onto his shoulders, before making their way over his muscled chest and down the rest of his body. Unconsciously Calleigh licked her lips, realizing she'd done it only when Jake smirked in response. But any embarrassment quickly faded as Jake leaned in, hungrily closing his lips over hers._

_Calleigh gave a small whimper of surprise, but quickly melted into his body, his kiss. She felt the rest of the world around them disintegrate, leaving only them, only the feel of his body against hers, his lips kissing her deeply, passionately. _

_Her hands found their way quickly into his wet hair, tugging softly at the locks as she tried to pull him closer, deepening the kiss even more. Vaguely she felt her lungs begin to burn, but she didn't care. She wouldn't mind if this kiss went on forever. Slowly her fingers began to itch for more contact, and her hands slipped from his hair, following the water as it trailed over his neck and down to his bare chest, allowing her touch to linger there. She felt Jake shudder beneath her touch, and she couldn't help but smile into the kiss, losing herself in this moment, their moment. _

_There was no way she could even begin to describe the sensations he brought forth in her. The hot water fell around them, wrapping them in a blissful fog as the steam filled the shower, hiding them away from the rest of the world. The way Jake's skilled hands felt upon her flushed body was already exquisite, but the added slickness between them from the water made her shiver all the more. She was trapped between the wall and his muscular body, but her own squirming wasn't because she wanted to get away. If anything, she wanted him closer. _

_She felt him nibble gently at her lip, and with a soft moan, Calleigh happily parted her lips for him, allowing their tongues to mingle. Her own hands glided to his lower back, pulling him closer to her, wanting more and more contact. She was dizzy, needing oxygen, but also needing this never to end. _

_A whimper of protest escaped her as Jake finally broke the connection between their lips. He didn't go far, though, and Calleigh's whimper quickly became a sigh of delight as his lips traced along her jaw, trailing kisses all the way down to the base of her neck, nipping ever slightly at the spots that he knew would elicit a shudder, a sigh, or a cry from Calleigh. _

_Calleigh rested her head against the cool tile wall, her eyes fluttering closed as Jake's lips worked their magic over the pulse point in her throat. "Jake…" she murmured breathlessly, feeling the tension coil within her, almost to the point of bursting. She couldn't catch her breath; her skin felt as though it were on fire, despite the water that continued to fall around them. And every single kiss that Jake continued to lavish upon her skin only set it that much more ablaze. So much more to come, and yet, Calleigh was already lost in sensory overload. "Jake…please…"_

_Slowly Jake kissed his way back up toward her lips, taking his own sweet time. Nipping here, suckling there, and within seconds he had Calleigh squirming even more against him, her hands tangling in his hair as she took things into her own hands, bringing his face back to hers, his lips back to hers. _

_The dark, lusty look in his eyes sent endless shivers racing through every inch of Calleigh's body. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured low, his hands at her hips, softly stroking her silky skin before gently lifting her up and bringing them fully together. Calleigh shuddered hard, clinging to him as he slowly drove her even farther out of her mind. _

_There was no more intense feeling than being so close to him, trusting Jake so intimately. The sheer knowledge he possessed of her body never ceased to amaze her. She squirmed in his arms, unable to find reprieve from the fire he stoked within her; the fire that quickly spread to every inch of her body._

_Their slick bodies moved together beneath the spray of water, soft moans and sighs filling the small cubicle. Calleigh gave a soft whimper as Jake growled against her throat, leaving a hot trail of kisses over her skin as his lips found their way over her jawline and toward the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. As he reached that spot, Calleigh's body trembled as Jake slowly brought her toward the edge. The final push that she needed to fall was the feeling of Jake's lips closing around her earlobe, and suddenly she was tumbling into blissful oblivion, holding tightly to Jake as she felt him take that final plunge right along with her…_

Goosebumps lined every inch of her skin as Calleigh fell slowly back into the present time, an indiscernible mix of emotions ebbing over her. She could not even begin to describe the feelings – pain, loneliness, anger, need; and those were only the surface emotions. What existed beneath those wasn't anything Calleigh could handle right now.

Using every bit of her resolve, Calleigh reached into the shower, her hands closing over the other remaining items. Without another look, she tossed them gently into the box, only being gentle so they wouldn't burst and spill…or so she told herself.

And that was it. The bedroom and bathroom were emptied of his belongings, the two rooms in which his things had most accumulated. Such a vast feeling of finality fell over her as she picked that box up and carried it out of the bathroom, eventually making it to its destination just outside of the den, beside the box from the bedroom.

Some time later, the only room left to clean out was the living room. By now, Calleigh was exhausted, physically and mentally. Her body was crying out to her, begging her to leave it for tomorrow. But there was no way that Calleigh could leave that door ajar. No, she had to close it completely, lest the lingering feelings creep back in through the way they'd left. She couldn't leave this unfinished; her strength had been depleted when she'd began, so who was to say how much strength she would have left if she left the rest until later? She couldn't take that risk.

As she finally stepped into the living room, Calleigh gave a heavy sigh as she realized that for the first time, it was actually beginning to look like a _living_ room. She had always kept it so neat, so immaculate. When it was just her, she kept everything in its place. Pillows on the ends of the couch, blanket on the back of the couch. Cordless phone on the side table next to some kind of flower arrangement – in the past, it had been tulips; most recently, it had been roses from Jake. The photograph of the team always occupied that same table, and maybe in the past, one or two girly magazines would be neatly placed on the coffee table. It had always looked perfect, but now it looked lived in.

And Calleigh was about to put an end to that. She had to.

The couch was still a mess from where she had spent a nice portion of the night tossing and turning on it. The blanket was wrinkled on the floor, one pillow buried beneath it, the other about four feet away. Calleigh's own girly magazines remained on the coffee table, just less neatly, and more interspersed with a few of Jake's sports magazines. Also taking residence on the coffee table was Jake's laptop, which he had brought with him so he wouldn't have to spend late nights at the station typing up reports.

The roses were long gone from the side table, leaving behind just an empty, decorative vase. The photo, however, remained, though it remained face down on the table, as she had turned it so many months before. Jake's iPod resided on the table beside the photo, its earbuds hanging down from the table and into the floor, instead of neatly wrapped around the iPod like Calleigh would've preferred.

So many nuances that Calleigh herself would never put up with…and yet, she'd put up with them anyway.

Because they were _Jake._

But Jake was gone.

That painful truth pushing her, Calleigh forced herself to begin divesting the living room of Jake's presence, one item at a time. She began, however, with the part that had the least to do with Jake directly, or so she'd thought. Setting the cardboard box to the side, Calleigh frowned at the mess on and in front of the couch, the remnants of her restless sleep the night before. It was because of Jake that she had slept out here, so first she had to restore the couch back to its usual appearance. She wanted no memory of the night before.

Stripping the pillows from their cases, Calleigh tossed the pillows carelessly toward the doorway, so she'd remember to take them back to her bedroom as she went back that way. The pillowcases she wrapped within the blanket and tossed to the vacant armchair, knowing they would need to go through the laundry before she could use them again. The pillowcases had been in her bed; Jake had been in her bed. The blanket was a main staple to her couch; she and Jake had cuddled beneath it numerous times while watching a movie, or simply enjoying each other's company.

The memories tugged at her heart, though she tried desperately to stave them off. Soft kisses to the top of her head, the feel of his arms wrapped snugly around her, her eyelids growing progressively heavier as he stroked her back in the most soothing of circles…_why_ couldn't she just let it go?

It frustrated her beyond belief; Calleigh was an expert at running from anything she didn't want to deal with. But this was the _last_ thing she wanted to deal with, and yet, she couldn't escape it. The memories were everywhere.

That knowledge fueled the fire she felt within her, the drive to rinse herself completely of him. Almost angrily, she turned her gaze to the side table, her next conquest. Of the objects that occupied the table, Calleigh's eyes lingered not on Jake's iPod, but on the object just mere inches away from it on the side table – a facedown picture frame. With shaking hands, she reached out to it, gingerly setting it back in its usual position, unable to stop a frown from tugging her lips downward.

In the photograph, her younger self had looked so…_happy. _It was as though she had not a care in the world. Even Calleigh herself could immediately see the stark contrast between the woman captured on film, and her present self. On film, her smile was genuine. Her eyes sparkled, and she gave off a contented, comfortable feeling. She happily leaned into Eric's embrace as he pulled her close, holding her tightly against him so Alexx could get the whole team in the photograph.

Everything had been so easy back then. Calleigh had had her best friend, and she'd had an occasional boyfriend here and there, though never anything serious. And now, Calleigh didn't know _what_ she had, but she did know she wasn't happy with it. Not with this, at least.

She couldn't remember the last time she had given a genuine smile. Her smile had always been the one personal attribute that set her apart from all of her other colleagues. Even during the most harrowing, most challenging cases, Calleigh always managed to keep a sunny demeanor; it had just always been who she was. Speedle had once made a quick retreat from the breakroom, muttering something about not wanting her to infect him with her sunshine.

But now…Calleigh didn't even recognize the woman she had become. It was reminiscent of her New Orleans self, the self she had run away from at the first chance. She didn't smile; she didn't laugh. She hurt far too much to even think about doing either right now. Where her younger self seemed to glow, Calleigh's present self seemed to fade into the darkness, hiding away from all of the world.

The contrast was definite, but the confusion still remained, only growing ever murkier. Why was she so happy with Eric, but so hurt by Jake? Or was it that she was happy to be with a true friend who knew and understood her, and so hurt after someone who was far more than a friend broke her heart?

Colleagues, friends, lovers…why couldn't any of them pick a category and stick to it?

It was a question Calleigh could not answer. With a sigh, she forced the thoughts from her mind, bringing herself back to the task at hand. Reminiscing would only make this harder, as she'd already discovered more times than she'd care to remember.

Continuing, Calleigh picked up Jake's iPod and wrapped the earbuds loosely around it, resisting the urge to hit play and find the song he'd last listened to. Instead, she set it securely inside the box, choosing not to discover his favorite songs. That wasn't something she needed – to be driving down the highway, and one of those songs just happened to come on the radio. What would she do? Calleigh didn't know, and she wasn't going to find out.

His laptop soon found its way into the same box, quickly buried beneath Jake's sports magazines. Interspersed with the pages of the magazines were a few random pieces of mail, some of which were opened, but Calleigh refused to spare them a second glance. There was nothing in there she wanted to see.

Calleigh _never_ wanted to open another envelope addressed to Jake ever again.

With a deep sigh, Calleigh stood and surveyed her living room. Emptied it was, once more restored to its usual pristine look, the way it had looked before Jake had made himself at home. And this was the way she wanted it…wasn't it?

_Yes,_ Calleigh firmly thought. _This is the way it's supposed to be._

Before any other part of her could protest, Calleigh made her way through her condo with a fourth box, picking up any little stray items that had escaped her attention. After all, it wouldn't do for her to be making her morning coffee, and her eyes land upon the special blend of coffee that he preferred. That just…wouldn't work out for her.

Within moments, the four boxes were sitting in the middle of her foyer, just waiting to be picked up, something which, now that she'd gotten it all together, couldn't happen fast enough. After debating it for just a moment, Calleigh quickly scrawled out a short note, unwilling to put any amount of emotion behind her words. After all, she was done with emotion. She was done with feeling. Now, she just needed to move on with her life.

She lay the note gingerly on top of one of the boxes, knowing that the bright yellow of the paper against the dull brown cardboard would definitely be visible to Jake. Not even he could miss that. Briefly she worried that maybe her words were too harsh, but she was able to quickly let it go as she reminded herself of some of his words to her. He had said some things that made her abrupt and emotionless _Here's all your stuff; you can let me know if anything's missing, _sound almost inviting.

Just as she was about to turn away from this part of her life for good, something just happened to catch her eye. Hanging over the top corner of one of the boxes was some sort of chain, one that Calleigh hadn't remembered putting in the box. Kneeling in front of the boxes, Calleigh gingerly reached out to it, feeling the cold metal slip between her fingertips. Curious, she pulled it gently from the box, her heart wrenching when she realized what it was. On the chain was a small medallion, and Calleigh's breath caught as she realized this was the first time she had seen it when it wasn't around Jake's neck. He wore it so often that it was practically a part of him.

The significance of it, however, escaped her, as she realized with a slight pang that she had never thought to ask him about it. Gently she turned it within her hands, feeling its texture between her fingers, hearing the slight metallic tinkle of the chain. All she knew was that it did have some sort of significance to Jake.

And now, though Calleigh could not explain it, the small medallion seemed to gain some kind of significance to herself. But why? Was there something she just wasn't seeing? It confused her dearly, but Calleigh couldn't seem to make herself drop the chain back down into the box, where she knew it belonged if she really wanted any closure.

Breathing deeply, Calleigh slowly slipped the chain over her head and around her own neck, letting the medallion fall just above her own heart. As the metal hit her skin, a slight chill washed over her, and momentarily Calleigh closed her eyes, trying desperately to ignore the significance of what she had just done. Still, she could not seem to lift her fingers to remove the chain.

Her eyes strayed back to the note she had laid atop his boxes as she gently fingered the medallion around her neck. She _had_ told him to tell her if he found that something was missing. It would mean more painful conversation between them, but if that was the price for getting to feel as though he was close to her for just a little bit longer, then Calleigh could handle that.

With the exception of the medallion around her neck, and the shirt she had placed back in her own drawer, every bit of Jake that had found its way into her home was now concentrated in one spot, waiting only for Jake to come and pick it up.

It was then that it really, truly hit Calleigh. This was it. The sum total of their relationship was before her, packed neatly away into four large cardboard boxes. She had removed him from her home, and soon he would be removed from her life. The realization made Calleigh's fingers clench around his medallion as lowered herself fully to the ground and rested her head against the wall, feeling unable to keep her own balance. Everything he'd ever meant to her, and her to him, was being tossed out, forgotten about.

This _wasn't_ how this was supposed to make her feel. Calleigh had meant for packing away his things and tidying up her apartment to be therapeutic, healing. It was meant as an exercise to help her move on, to get the closure she needed.

But if anything, as her eyes once more began to sting as her vision blurred with tears, Calleigh felt a million times worse than she had before.

This didn't feel like closure. It felt like the end.

**..**

The next morning, Calleigh forced a smile to her lips as she walked into the lab, a new day upon her. Her heels clacked loudly on the tile as determinedly she walked, once and for all ready to leave the pain behind. There was no more time for tears. Now, there was only time for moving forward.

Calleigh refused to linger on her relationship with Jake any longer. It was the lingering that had hurt her; the wondering, the endless thinking. Whether she would admit it or not, Jake had succeeded in breaking her.

And just like before, Calleigh would be the one to put herself back together.

Head held high, she quickly made her way to the reception desk, ready to begin the long day ahead. "Hey, Paula," Calleigh greeted the receptionist, the false cheeriness in her voice sounding like nothing less than the real thing. After all, she'd had most of her life to pretend to be happy. She was an expert at it. "Any messages?"

Paula smiled. "Yeah, just one," she said, reaching for a folded note on the desk. "Here you go."

As Calleigh's eyes took in the handwriting on the front of the paper, her smile faded just slightly. That was handwriting she would recognize anywhere. "Thanks, Paula," she replied quietly, though with the same note of happiness in her voice. After all, gossip spread like wildfire through this lab; the last thing Calleigh needed was everybody knowing her personal business.

As soon as she thought she could sneak away without being caught, Calleigh clutched the folded paper in her hands and set off for the nearest empty, secluded corner in the lab. She didn't allow herself to breathe steadily until she had found that corner, out of the sight of prying eyes.

For the longest time, Calleigh simply stood there, her perplexed green eyes locked on the messy scrawl of her name on the front of the paper. What could Jake possibly want now? Did he think that, just because it was a new day, that everything was okay again? Did he think he could charm her by sending her messages at work, as he'd done so often when they were together?

Or maybe the note was something else. Maybe he wanted to get together for lunch, perhaps to explain his actions further. But if that was the case, Calleigh knew her answer would be a staunch no.

Hadn't Jake already said enough already?

Hadn't Calleigh already given him enough second chances?

Even if the first question weren't true, the second definitely was. It wasn't often that Calleigh could let herself give someone a second chance, but for some reason, she had trusted Jake enough to do so. And yet, he'd done no different than he'd done before, leaving Calleigh feeling once more like an idiot for believing his lies.

This time, Calleigh wasn't going to let that happen. There would be no more broken promises, no more lies, no more excuses. Calleigh was done with handing out second chances.

She bit her lip, clutching Jake's note tightly as she glared down at it.

And then, without even opening it, Calleigh quickly ripped it to shreds.

* * *

_**My apologies for the amount of time between updates. Neither RL nor my computer have been very helpful lately when it comes to working on fic. Also, for those of you who are/were wondering, Eric returns in chapter 28. I promise I haven't forgotten about him. :)**_


	28. Unavoidable Distractions

**_Chapter Twenty-Eight_**  
_**Unavoidable Distractions**  
-**  
**_

_It was straight out of his dreams, the vision before him. She was a goddess, in every sense of the word. Sunlight streamed down upon her, giving much of her body an ethereal glow, from her locks of golden blonde, all the way to her toes of pearly pink. Her sunkissed skin glistened with the light spray from the water, covered only by the fabric of her perfect black bikini. Behind her, the deep blue of the ocean sparkled in the sun, meeting the cloudless blue sky seamlessly at the horizon. It was nothing less than perfect, and Eric couldn't help but reach for his camera. His blonde beauty, sunning herself without a care in the world, completely and utterly unguarded, with the beauty of the ocean behind her…it was a picture that Eric just had to have captured forever on film. _

_The soft click of the shutter caught her attention, and she turned her head, peering over the top of her sunglasses at him. A small, embarrassed grin touched her lips. "Eric," she protested, a quiet giggle accenting her words._

_Eric merely grinned back at her. "What?"_

_Calleigh lifted a hand, brushing a lock of her slightly breeze-blown hair out of her face. "That was a bad picture," she replied coyly, an adorable pout playing at her lips. _

_"Yeah right," Eric snorted, setting his camera down again. "You're in it; it can't be a bad picture."_

_Calleigh ducked her head, her smile widening. "But I wasn't paying attention!"_

_Eric smirked. "I know. That's the best kind of picture."_

_"But my hair was in my face!" Her protests were growing more and more halfhearted, as she couldn't keep a grin from her lips. _

_"Oh, stop it," Eric teased, standing. Quickly he crossed to the other side of the boat, taking a seat next to where she sat sideways, her legs stretched out across the bench, her back to him. "Your hair was fine, like always," he murmured, gently brushing his fingers through it. "And you look perfect, like always." His hands slowly trailed over the smooth skin of her back, his fingers teasing at the strings of her bikini top. "But if you want," he murmured low, lowering his lips to her bare shoulder, "I can make you look even better," he finished, tugging the strings completely loose._

_"Eric!" Calleigh squealed, quickly spinning to face him, her cheeks blushing vividly as she quickly reached behind her back to once more tie the strings of her top. She gazed over her sunglasses, a playful warning in her emerald orbs. _

_"What?" Eric asked innocently, thought the devilish grin at his lips put an end to any air of innocence he might've held. Calleigh lifted an eyebrow, and Eric smirked. "We're all alone out here. It's just you and me, beautiful. Nobody around for miles."_

_Calleigh shook her head in amusement. "Still, Eric…"_

_Eric chuckled low, the quiet rumble sending shivers through Calleigh's body. "Fine, I'll behave." Leaning into her, he pressed a lingering kiss to her neck. "For now."_

_Calleigh tilted her head, allowing him better access as one kiss became two, and two became an endless, blissful onslaught of kisses. Her eyes fell closed, and she gave a soft sigh of delight. "You know, I think I could stay out here forever," she thought aloud, losing herself in the idea._

_"I know I could," Eric responded without a moment's hesitation. And really, he could. Out here, there was nothing to hold him – them – back, nothing to ground them. They could go anywhere, with each other along for the ride. Out here, Eric had everything he wanted - the sunshine, the deep blue sea, and most of all, Calleigh. Calleigh, his sunkissed, playfully camera-shy beauty…it was perfect._

_Breaking away from her, Eric turned his head, gazing thoughtfully out over the ocean. He felt Calleigh shift next to him, moving closer to him, her hand resting gently on his arm. "What are you thinking about?" she asked softly, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head, allowing Eric to see her eyes._

_Eric regarded her with a grin, lifting his own sunglasses, the playful sparkle that danced in his eyes more than apparent. "I'm thinking about how, one day, I'm gonna get you out there with me," he said, gesturing out toward the open ocean. _

_Calleigh laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Dream on," she drawled, giving him a teasing shove to the shoulder. 'I'm plenty happy staying nice and dry, out here with the sunshine," she added, stretching luxuriously for emphasis._

_"You just wait," Eric smirked. "I'll get you out there, one day." Before Calleigh could protest again, Eric leaned in and softly captured her lips. As always, it was so overwhelming to him; her scent, her taste, the softness of her skin as he cupped her cheek. It was just all so perfect; he couldn't live without it, without her._

_As she broke away from his lips, Eric refused to let her go far, pulling her into his arms and onto his lap. A wide smile stretched over his lips as Calleigh instinctively tucked her head beneath his chin, softly nuzzling against him. She sighed in his arms before whispering the three words he knew he'd never tire of hearing._

_"I love you." _

**_.._**

It was only one of the many dreams that had plagued Eric's restless sleep for the past couple of nights. By the time he finally made it to bed, he would awaken at least once every hour, if not more often. They were all different, yet all were the same. In the break room, at a romantic dinner, out on the ocean, laying in bed – the settings were different, but the dreams were the same. Calleigh. Kiss. Love.

He'd certainly dreamed about her before, day and night. But one single kiss in the break room had brought about a chain reaction within his imagination. If he stopped what he was doing, whatever he was doing, even for just a second, the feelings would accost him once again. He could still feel her lips against his, soft, sweet. He could still taste her upon his own lips; he could still feel the softness of her hair, smell the sweetness of her perfume.

It really wasn't what he needed today. Eric had work to do. He couldn't be thinking of her while he analyzed fingerprints. He couldn't be thinking of her while he matched tire treads, while he finished paperwork that he'd been putting off for days and days.

But he couldn't help it. One kiss, and he couldn't get her out of his mind.

With a heavy sigh, he scanned a set of prints into AFIS, glad for the moment to let the computer do the work. For a moment, he could rest his elbows on the desk and hold his aching head in his hands. The dull ache had danced behind his eyelids since late last evening, but Eric knew it was merely from sleep deprivation. It was still painful, yes, but it was a nice change from the sharp, stabbing pain that occasionally stemmed from the bullet in his brain.

Exhaustion punctuated by a deep yawn, he rubbed at his tired eyes, knowing it was almost time for some coffee. It was early yet, but he had been in the lab since far before sunrise. He'd come in to escape from his dreams, but it was all to no avail as she visited him whenever he closed his eyes.

For now, he allowed the images to win, letting them wash over him as he found himself too tired to fight them off. He pushed away the sounds of the computer as it searched frantically for a fingerprint match; he pushed away the casefile in front of him. Taking a few deep breaths, Eric allowed the lab to dissolve around him as the darkened break room once more reformed in his mind.

_His fingertips danced across the softness of her cheek; he hadn't even realized he'd reached out to her until he felt the electricity race through his body. He felt her fingers twitch slightly, entwined loosely with the fingers of his other hand. It was a completed circuit, allowing that electricity to flow freely between them. _

_The pain in his head had all but disappeared, and as Eric gazed into Calleigh's emerald eyes filled with concern for him, he felt his heart skip several beats within his chest. Despite the fact that he was lying down, he felt dizzy, and he couldn't help but wonder if Calleigh knew at all what she did to him._

_Utterly captivated by the beauty before him, Eric watched as her eyes fluttered closed as his thumb stroked ever softly over his cheek. Barely – just barely – she leaned into his touch, the slight, nearly imperceptible motion causing Eric's mouth to go dry, his breath to catch in his throat. Her teeth worried anxiously at her lower lip, and Eric could tell she was contemplating escape. _

_But she made no sudden moves. She didn't move at all; she merely continued to crouch in front of him, allowing Eric to squeeze her hand and stroke her cheek._

_And then, just when Eric thought the moment could get no more intense, Calleigh's eyes slowly came open. Emerald green met dark brown, and Eric felt as though the entire world had stopped spinning in that very moment. He couldn't read her eyes; all he could clearly see was intensity. _

_He would never know how many seconds, how many minutes passed as he gazed deep into her eyes, her soul. In the deepest parts of him, he felt as she squeezed his hand tightly; he watched as, infinitely slowly, she inched closer to him. _

_When her lips touched his, Eric was certain he had died and gone to heaven. The feel of her lips on his was every bit as exhilarating as he had imagined, and then some. Her sweetness overwhelmed his senses, and though he was certain it rendered his entire life pathetic, it was easily the most amazing moment of his life so far. _

But it had ended far too soon, and none too positively. Calleigh's abrupt exit had crushed him. He'd lain there on the break room couch for the longest time, dazed, confused, _lost. _He'd stared at the ceiling, almost wishing he could sink completely into the couch and disappear.

When he'd gone home, all he'd wanted to do was forget. He'd had the one thing he wanted so desperately for all of a few seconds, and she had slipped right through his fingers before he could even move. But instead of forgetting about it and moving on, it plagued him. The kiss, Calleigh, everything had plagued his dreams and all of his thoughts.

And now, here he was in the lab, lost once more in thoughts of her.

A loud knock at the window jarred him from his thoughts, and as Eric looked up, a familiar face greeted him from the other side of the glass. Her features he recognized quickly as the officer who'd greeted him and Calleigh at the crime scene on the beach so long ago – _the same day you first nearly kissed Calleigh, _he was reminded with a jolt. His memory wasn't perfect these days, but Eric could remember _everything_ about that day, from the soft breeze that blew in from the ocean, to the feathery tickle of Calleigh's hair as that breeze blew it just barely against his cheek. He could remember the case by heart, because he and Calleigh had recreated it.

And he remembered the cheerful brunette who stood on the other side of the glass because of Calleigh's slight yet apparent displeasure toward her. Eric hadn't been too sure what that was about, and he'd meant to ask, but…certain events had clouded his mind.

Putting a name to that face had been a little more difficult, but then again, Eric had never really been the greatest with names. But as he returned her smile and stood to make his way out of the lab, letting the computer continue its search alone, he was able to recall her name. Andrea Bowman, new to homicide, fresh out of patrol. As Eric stepped through the doorway, he felt his lips twitch even more as he remembered the obvious interest she had displayed. In fact, she'd been almost pushy about it, but Eric had always liked assertiveness.

Grateful for the distraction, Eric's smile was not fake as he greeted her. "Andrea."

She grinned. "What, no 'nice to see you'? Or an 'I'm glad you stopped by'?" she teased, crossing her arms as though offended.

"What makes you think it's nice to see you?" Eric quipped, quirking a brow. Leaning casually against the wall, he regarded her with an appraising look. She was Calleigh's polar opposite, and despite finding it easy to flirt with her, Eric couldn't help but make constant comparisons. Her hair didn't wave around her face as naturally as Calleigh's blonde locks did. Her smile didn't set his heart racing like Calleigh's did. Her giggle wasn't as musical, as magical as Calleigh's was. The teasing was easy, the flirting was fun, but it just wasn't the same as with Calleigh.

Andrea gave a slight pout. "Okay, that was cold," she remarked, smiling nonetheless. "Especially since I came by to thank you."

Eric once more lifted his eyebrow, this time out of confusion instead of playfulness. "Thank me?" he asked, a baffled grin at his lips. "What'd I do?"

She grinned, tilting her head playfully. "Oh, you know, for the other night," Andrea replied, reaching out to gently tap his elbow." I don't know what I would've done without you."

Eric blinked, keeping his face passive. But on the inside, his heart had skipped a few beats, as it did every time somebody mentioned something he should probably remember. He wracked his brain until he felt the dull ache from his sleep deprivation begin to intensify, but still he just couldn't remember immediately what Andrea was talking about. And that scared him. Unlike everyone around him, Eric just couldn't simply shrug off forgetting something. For him, forgetting could be disastrous.

But as Eric struggled to remember, Andrea only laughed, and to Eric's slight dismay, he once more found himself comparing it to Calleigh's laugh. And once more, it didn't measure up. "Don't you remember?" Andrea continued, obviously not realizing the depth of her question. "You helped me with my car," she clarified, her eyes sparkling.

A wave of relief quickly washed over Eric as his memory finally clicked. That had been the day that Calleigh had witnessed his moment of pain in the lab. It had also been the day that she had kissed him. By the time he'd pulled himself out of the solitude of the lab that night, it had been late, and he'd been more exhausted than he'd ever been. Compared to what he'd had on his mind, helping Andrea with her car troubles had been trivial; no wonder it had escaped his mind. Now, he remembered it clearly. "Oh yeah, that," he replied with a smile, though it was a smile of relief rather than a smile at Andrea. "That was no problem."

She pushed her dark hair behind her ears, and if possible, her smile widened. "Still, I know it was late and you were headed home. You didn't have to stop and help. I know some people would've just went on by."

Eric smirked. "Well, I guess I'm just not one of those people," he said, knowing it was true. As he'd found out time and time again, that was his weakness, his need to help. If he could do anything, Eric couldn't just walk on by and pretend he hadn't seen. Even after it had backfired on him more times than he could count, he still couldn't deny the urge to help. It was in his blood, and, clichéd though it was, it was part of why he'd wanted to become a cop in the first place. "Besides, I wanted to," he said simply, giving a slight shrug.

Andrea gave a smile of gratitude. "Well, like I said, I really appreciate it."

"And I told you," Eric chuckled, "it was no problem. But like I told you," he continued, a small smile remaining at his lips, "it's only a temporary fix. You need to take it somewhere and have somebody look at it, or else it'll do the same thing it did the other night." Despite everything, he gave her a wink. "And next time, I might not be there to save you."

"Well, I would," Andrea replied coyly. "But I'm such a girl," she continued, a giggle escaping her lips. "I don't know a thing about cars, let alone how to know who to take one to."

It was another opening that Eric just couldn't ignore. Just like in any other profession, some mechanics were unscrupulous, not opposed to taking advantage of someone just to make some extra money. Marisol had had a run-in with a mechanic like that, and she'd ended up paying him twice what she should've paid. "Okay, you know what? Give me a couple of days," Eric began with a smile, "and I'll find you a decent mechanic, one who won't end up screwing you over."

Andrea nodded her thanks. "So that's the second time you'll have helped me out in a bind," she remarked.

Lifting a hand, Eric unconsciously scratched at the back of his head. "Really, it's nothing. Which I feel like I'm just repeating over and over again to absolutely no avail," he realized with a chuckle.

Chuckling with him, Andrea once more tapped his elbow, though this time she allowed her touch to linger just a tiny bit longer. "Well, it was something to me, and I wanted to thank you." She paused, allowing a slightly conniving grin to form upon her lips. "So, what are you gonna let me do to make it up to you?" she asked, taking a step closer to him.

Eric chuckled, rolling his eyes slightly. "Nothing."

Andrea pretended to look offended. "Nothing? You practically saved my life and you won't let me repay you?"

"I didn't save your life," Eric said, unable to keep a teasing grin from touching his lips. "I just got your car to start. No big deal."

"Well, you could at least let me buy you dinner," she insisted, batting her eyelashes playfully. "Or coffee, at the very least. Come on, Eric."

"Andrea, really, it's not necessary," Eric said, a bit of a chuckle coloring his words.

But to Eric's slight dismay, Andrea wasn't giving up. "Yes, it is, because I want to," she replied, once more touching his elbow. She winked. "And I'm very persistent."

"So I've noticed," Eric teased, though he took a much needed step back from her. "You know what? Fine," he conceded. "Just not this week, okay? I've got…a lot on my mind."

Quickly, much to Eric's surprise, Andrea slipped from playful to serious. "Is everything okay?" she asked, genuinely seeming to care.

Eric regarded her closely, trying to read her before deciding on the vague answer he'd taken to giving everyone else. Apparently it was something he'd learned from Calleigh. "Yeah, I've just got a lot on my mind."

Andrea gave a hum of understanding. "Yeah, I get that," she replied, though Eric was sure she really didn't. He kept his mouth closed though; while she wasn't Calleigh, he enjoyed the quick, easy conversation between them. To his luck, Andrea's phone began to ring, and she gave an apologetic smile as she answered it.

From the corner of his eye, Eric suddenly caught a flash of golden blonde, causing his heart to leap straight into his throat. Apparently he was not the only one to come into work early. Discreetly he watched as she stopped by reception, and even though the motion was slight, he could see her shoulders slump just barely.

But just as soon as it had happened, Calleigh had straightened up again. With a small wave to Paula – a small, yellow note clasped in her fingers – Calleigh turned, determination in every part of her as she made her way down the hall and out of sight.

Eric's heart burned to follow her, despite the tension he knew had developed between them. The need to comfort her was still very much a part of him, and to be honest, he _ached_ to know what had just happened; he _ached_ to be there for her, despite the fact that whatever had just happened might've been nothing at all.

But deep down, Eric knew that wasn't the case. Because 'nothing at all' never affected Calleigh visibly.

With an audible sigh, Andrea closed her phone, pulling Eric back to the present moment. "I've gotta go," she said, her words reluctant. "But you'll definitely have to let me know when I can make everything up to you," she reminded him, winking. Before Eric could reply, Andrea reached out once more, her fingers gently brushing at his hand. "I'll see you later," she said, before turning to walk away, leaving Eric looking after her with the same appraising look he'd given her earlier.

If anything, Andrea served to show him just how much he had changed, how much he had grown in the past few years. He was no longer the carefree, easygoing guy he had been before the bullet to his brain, before the death of his sister, of his best friend. He had realized that he wasn't invincible; that he couldn't just do whatever he wanted.

And once he'd realized that, Eric grew to realize that he wanted _more_. He wanted more than just a random warm body to share his bed for just one night.

As he watched Andrea finally walk out of his sight, Eric gave a deep sigh. Andrea was pretty. More than pretty, actually. And more than not, it seemed she was interested in him.

Pretty face, nice body, obvious interest. In the past, that had been all it took to catch Eric's own interest. Three years before, Eric knew that he would've given into that interest; he knew he would've taken her out for a night of clubbing, and inevitably they would've ended up at one of their places; his or hers, it didn't matter, whichever was closer, more convenient. It wouldn't be meaningless sex, exactly, but it wouldn't be a serious relationship either. In the past, a serious relationship was the last thing he wanted.

In the past, Eric would've been all too happy to give into Andrea's flirting; he would've been all too glad to take her home so each of them could take what they wanted in that moment. And in the past, Eric would've been satisfied with that.

But this wasn't the past.

This was now, and a casual relationship was no longer enough to satisfy Eric. He wanted – no, _needed _more than that. The deepest desires of his heart were to settle down, get married, and have a family of his own. He had begun to drift, but losing Marisol had once more knocked the necessity of family home to him. And now, he wanted one of his own.

And he wanted that with Calleigh.

He wanted to share his life with Calleigh, and he was ready for that now. He just had to force himself to ignore the hot acid bubbling in his stomach, the foreboding, almost anxious beat of his heart, both of which made his breathing quicken with the realization that he could be far too late.

Perhaps Jake had already stolen her heart.

He hadn't even realized he was moving, but somehow his feet had managed to carry him in the direction he'd watched Calleigh go, without getting the instructions from his mind. No, his mind still remained out in the atrium, contemplating the darkest thought he'd ever had the displeasure of thinking. His feet had carried him of their own accord, and before he knew it, Eric was rounding a corner, the faint sounds of ripping paper greeting his ears.

Around that corner was Calleigh, and as Eric's gaze fell upon her, he couldn't help but feel as though he were intruding on a private moment. Clutched tightly in her left fist was the yellow paper he'd seen her walk off with before – now it was merely shredded paper. Her eyes were closed, her head downcast, blonde locks conveniently shielding her face from him. Her back was to the wall, and her posture lacked the confidence that made Calleigh who she was. Her shoulders rose and fell rhythmically with her deep, steady breathing, and Eric knew she was searching for the control she had nearly lost, for whatever reason.

Part of him wanted to grant her the privacy he knew she craved, because Calleigh hated to appear anything less than completely in control in public, and Eric knew that. But the rest of him…just needed to know that she was okay. Seeing her like this was frightening.

Glancing away, he allowed her a moment to compose herself before he slowly took a couple of tentative steps toward her, softly murmuring her name. Calleigh gave no response, and instinctively Eric reached out, laying a hand atop her shoulder.

Her reaction was visceral. It was slight, but it was there – the startled way her body jumped beneath his touch, the soft intake of air that Eric heard only barely. But much to his surprise, Calleigh didn't pull away from his touch, and while he was ever grateful for that, what he really wanted was for her to meet his eyes. "Cal?"

Slowly, Calleigh lifted her head, allowing it to rest against the wall behind her. For the moment, however, her eyes remained closed, and Eric still couldn't read her.

If she hadn't kissed him, setting up the tension that existed between them now, Eric would've reached out and brushed the stray locks of blonde away from her slightly flushed face. If she hadn't kissed him, he might've attempted to pull her into his arms, because from what he saw right now, that was what she needed. But still, he forced himself to hold back, knowing it wasn't a move that either of them could handle right now. Instead, he opted for the safe choice – the generic question that would only generate a generic answer. "Are you okay?"

Just as he'd expected, Calleigh's lips turned upward in the slightest of smiles, and she nodded slowly. "I'm fine," she mumbled, and Eric was honestly shocked to hear the heaviness in her voice, a heaviness that sounded a lot like the weight of unshed tears.

Calleigh must've noticed it as well, because she gave a slight shrug, forcing herself to meet Eric's eyes for the first time. "I think I'm just coming down with a bug," she added, sniffling for good measure. "The flu's been going around, you know."

Eric nodded, though that was the last thing he would ever believe, especially after seeing the redness in her finally open eyes. She _had_ been near tears, and the very idea broke Eric's heart. Still, he knew to say anything about it would push Calleigh away from him. He knew the last thing she wanted to talk about were tears that she'd rather just ignore, even if nobody else could. "Then why aren't you at home getting some rest?" he asked softly, knowing that even though she obviously wasn't sick, rest seemed to be something she needed just as desperately as he did.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and if his heart weren't aching right now, Eric might've laughed. "I don't take sick days," she said matter-of-factly. "Besides, it may not be the flu at all. It may be allergies."

Eric barely resisted the urge to lift a disbelieving brow to her. _Yeah, or you might be upset about something._

Of course, Eric would've never lent voice to that thought. Instead, he merely smiled, affectionately squeezing her shoulder. "Well, just take it easy, okay?" he suggested gently, trying to ignore the pain that struck his heart when she stiffened under what was supposed to be a reassuring touch.

Maybe the kiss _had _changed everything between them.

It was the thought that Eric found himself pondering in cadence with the other disturbing thought that had plagued his mind. Not only might he be too late, but now, everything might be different between them after all. The idea frightened Eric, and though he fought to control the quickened beat of his heart, he couldn't help but ask Calleigh a question, though it was one he was sure he knew the answer to. "Can I ask you something?" he began tentatively, shuffling his feet slightly.

Calleigh gave a sigh, though slowly she nodded her head. "Sure," she replied quietly.

There was no preamble to his words; the only way Eric could get them out was to blurt them. "Are we okay?"

Averting her eyes, Calleigh hesitated for a moment. Eric watched as she nibbled anxiously at her lip, and he couldn't help but be drawn right back to two days ago, in the break room. The softness of her lips against his was still so firmly imprinted in his mind, on his heart. And in front of him right now, Calleigh seemed so vulnerable, so broken, and all he wanted to do was reach out to her and tilt her chin up, losing himself in the deepest pools of emerald green before ever softly lowering his lips to hers in the lightest of kisses.

It was a fantasy that very nearly clouded his mind to all else, and he had to restrain himself to keep from making it a reality. He'd almost forgotten he'd asked her something, when slowly she let out a deep breath, nodding her head slightly. "We're okay," she said quietly.

"Good," Eric replied, once more giving her shoulder a light squeeze. He knew that it was likely that her simple answer was not the complete answer, but he knew he'd take that any day to the alternative – her avoiding him. Testing the waters, Eric took a slow step closer, dropping his hand from Calleigh's shoulder as he felt her tense even more beneath his touch. "I couldn't handle it if things were awkward between us again," he confessed, thinking back to all the weeks he'd spent acting cold toward her. He knew it was hurting her, but it had hurt him as well.

Calleigh didn't know what to say to that, but her silence didn't make Eric regret his words. Instead, he sighed, opting to change the subject. His eyes landed once more on the shreds of paper in her hands, and curiousity got the best of him. "What's that?" he asked in a would-be casual voice, his fingers gesturing to her hand.

"Oh, it's just…" Calleigh sighed, obviously choosing her words very carefully. Eric wasn't sure what that meant, but it did mean that no matter what she said, whatever had been in that note was significant. "It's something that I really just didn't need today, you know?" She gave a smile, her eyes momentarily lingering on the paper in her hand. "It's been a rough day."

"Tell me about it," Eric replied, deciding it was best to let the subject of the note go. Luck wasn't on his side when it came to finding out what was written in notes addressed to Calleigh, so this time he thought better than to tempt it. "And you know what the worst part is?"

Calleigh glanced up at him, and for a moment, there was a bit of the natural sparkle in her eyes. "What's that?"

Eric leaned closer, almost conspiratorially, smirking as Calleigh rolled her eyes. "It's not even eight o'clock."

With a groan, Calleigh rested her head back against the wall. "Well, you just ruined my day," she sassed, and Eric was so relieved to hear the playfulness he'd become accustomed to hearing in her voice.

He gave a quiet chuckle, glancing quickly down to the floor as he weighed his next options. It was a gamble, but it couldn't hurt anything, could it? "Well, maybe I can make it up to you," he replied with a grin, meeting her eyes completely. "If you want, we can get a cup of coffee a little later. My treat."

As he'd expected, Calleigh's expression fell, and once more she bit her lip, glancing away. "Eric…"

He shrugged it off, as though it was no big deal. But inside, secretly he was crushed. "Okay, never mind then," he said, giving a nonchalant shrug. "I just figured some coffee that _isn't _break room coffee was something we both needed."

Calleigh shook her head, avoiding his eyes. "I'm sorry, Eric," she replied quietly, fidgeting with the strips of yellow paper that still remained clutched tightly in her hands. "I've just…I've got a lot on my mind today."

At once, Eric recognized the avoidant reply he'd just given to Andrea. It stung, more than he'd like to admit. Whatever was bothering Calleigh, she felt as though she couldn't talk to him about it. Still, he kept up a strong façade, trying desperately not to let his own hurt shine through in his eyes. "That's okay. Maybe some other time, then."

"Maybe."

Her reply was quiet, contemplative, and Eric didn't know what he could possibly say to that. She didn't want to talk to him, that much was obvious. And yet, she hadn't asked him to leave her alone, either. Eric was confused.

Rather than allow that confusion to grow, Eric gave a sigh, deciding to give her the time alone she wanted. After all, he still had work to do. "I've got some prints running through AFIS, so I'd better go check on them," he said. Calleigh only nodded, and with that, he turned from her, the ache in his heart growing with every step he took away from her.

Five, six, seven steps away, and it was then that he was stopped in his tracks by the sound of her sweet voice, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Eric, wait," she called out, though when Eric turned back to her, her eyes remained on the ground. She breathed in deeply, and Eric could tell she was steeling herself for something. Patiently he waited, and his reward for that patience soon became apparent to him.

With the smallest of smiles, she looked up at him, defenses up, but not completely so. "I might…" she began, shrugging softly. "I might change my mind about that coffee."

Just a simple statement it was, but to Eric, it was the sweetest sequence of words he could hear in that moment. A slow smile stretched over his lips, and to his delight, he watched one form over Calleigh's as well, though hers carried an element of sadness that Eric just wished he could kiss away. Still, he kept his distance, knowing that was what she needed in that moment.

With a nod and a warm smile, Eric replied softly, grateful that she'd at least left the door open. That was more than he thought he could ask for. "If you do change your mind, you know where to find me."


	29. Heart to Heart

**_Chapter Twenty-Nine_**  
_**Heart to Heart**  
-**  
**_

The warm aroma of fresh coffee filled the air, mixing with the enticing scent of soft pastries and just a lingering hint of cinnamon. Even to Calleigh, the scent was comforting, calming some of the demons which lurked just below the surface, though not completely chasing them away. But at this point, anything was better than nothing for her, and very quickly she found herself glad that she'd taken Eric up on his offer.

Eric couldn't describe the happiness that had seized him when Calleigh had come to him about half past eleven, wondering if it was too late to take him up on his earlier offer. Of course, the answer had been a resounding no, and Eric could barely keep the grin from his lips, despite knowing that Calleigh remained troubled.

He sat across from her in the small booth, discreetly watching every move she made, from the nonchalant way she flipped her hair over her shoulders, to the exact way in which she added sugar to her coffee. He was fascinated by her; always had been, probably always would be.

Her eyes were downcast, gazing deep into her coffee as she stirred it, seemingly mesmerized by the dissolving grains of sugar. Aside from a few comments about the place when he'd led her in the doorway – the quiet, quaint coffeeshop had only opened a few weeks before, and Calleigh had yet to find the time to check it out – she hadn't spoken. Eric knew she was preoccupied with something; it was why he had asked her to get coffee in the first place, an offer which she had at first denied.

But then, she had come to him. _She_ had taken the initiative, and now she had fallen silent. Within the first five minutes, Eric had already exhausted all the obvious avenues of conversation – the weather, their cases, what had been on television the night before. And all of it had been rewarded with halfhearted hums of agreement from Calleigh.

And now, silence. Empty, awkward silence. It was the first time that Eric had nothing to say to her. He wanted to know why she seemed so troubled; he wanted to be there for her through whatever was ailing her. But he had no idea how to approach the situation. He couldn't just come out and ask her what her troubles were; he knew what answer he'd get for that.

Her every move he continued to observe, running even the smallest of her twitches through his mind, searching for the hidden meaning behind the way her fingers tapped her cup of coffee, behind the way her eyes flitted about nervously, yet never really lifting from the table before her.

Despite his extremely close scrutiny, Eric could not for the life of him figure out what was going through Calleigh's mind. She had guarded herself well; she knew exactly how to not give anything away. Across from him, she gave a small yawn, trying unsuccessfully to cover it up. "Tired?" Eric asked sympathetically, finding an opening to get her to talk to him, maybe.

Calleigh gave a small smile, glancing up at him only briefly. "Yeah, sort of," she replied, lifting her cup to her lips. She blew gently over the top of the hot coffee before taking a sip. "You were right; this place does have great coffee," she said, setting her cup down again.

"Yeah, I stopped here one morning just because I was in the neighborhood, and now I end up in here almost every day," Eric replied, chuckling lightly. Other than that, he didn't give into Calleigh's obvious attempt to change the subject, to direct it away from her. After all, she _had_ come to him. "Why didn't you sleep well last night?" he asked conversationally, hoping it sounded as though he'd ask anybody that question.

Calleigh stiffened almost immediately, sending alarm bells ringing in Eric's head. "Yesterday was just a long day," she said, wincing herself at the lie as she realized Eric would see right through it.

Sure enough, he gave a would-be playful smirk. "You were off yesterday; how long could your day have been?"

With a frown, Calleigh sighed deeply, reaching for her stirrer. "I just had a lot to deal with yesterday," she replied, slowly stirring her coffee. "I did lots of cleaning, some errands, that kind of thing." She shrugged. "Housework piles up when you work all the time."

Eric let out a deep breath, lifting a hand to rub at his stiff neck. This beat-around-the-bush thing was more frustrating than the awkward silence. As his mind drifted back to the moment she'd come to him, he remembered the look upon her face, within her emerald eyes. In that moment, she'd _wanted_ to talk; he could see it. Something was on her mind, and at one point, she'd wanted to share with him, or so it had seemed. At this point, Eric could only speculate, but he was sure what was bothering her had to do with the scene he'd stumbled upon earlier this morning. "Calleigh, you know you came to me, right?" he asked softly, hoping he wasn't pushing too many boundaries by asking. But this was killing him, not knowing what was plaguing her so deeply that it affected her physically as well as emotionally. "You don't have to hide from me; you can tell me whatever you wanted to tell me."

A flash of something quickly passed through Calleigh's eyes, though it was gone as soon as Eric had seen it. She gave a nervous chuckle, keeping her eyes firmly downcast. "Eric, I came to you because you asked me to get coffee, and I said maybe we could do it later. I came to you _later._"

Eric bit at the inside of his cheek. The last thing he wanted was for Calleigh to turn defensive on him. "I asked you to get coffee with me because I thought you looked like you could use a friend, or a distraction. I know something's bothering you, and I…I care about you, Cal. I wanted to be here if you wanted somebody to talk to." Calleigh didn't reply, though Eric could practically see her flight instincts kicking in. But he wasn't ready to back away, because he really did care about her. He hated to see her like this. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" Eric asked gently. Tentatively he reached across the table, brushing a knuckle against her hand.

As he'd expected, Calleigh tensed, pulling her hand away, letting it fall out of sight underneath the table. "Eric," she murmured, and though her voice was barely audible, Eric could hear the quiet warning for what it was.

He withdrew his own hand, though his eyes remained locked upon the blonde in front of him. "I just need to know that you know that," he added, just as quietly, just as warmly as before.

"I know that," Calleigh replied, and Eric braced himself as he watched her features stiffen. "I just don't understand why it's so bad if I want to keep something to myself."

Concealed though her irritation was, Eric could still hear it. "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, wishing Calleigh would lift her eyes to him. Eye contact was as essential to him as avoiding it was to Calleigh. It was an issue of trust, and Eric couldn't deny that it stung that she couldn't afford him that amount of trust. "I just know something's bothering you. I just wish you'd talk to me, that's all."

Giving a deep sigh, Calleigh lay her stirrer down, but instead of turning her eyes to Eric, she turned her head, gazing out the window. For the first time, she was beginning to regret accepting his offer for coffee. What she'd wanted was a quiet, amicable coffee date between _friends_, not a complete grilling of her personal life. And while she realized that that description was a bit of an overstatement, she still felt that way.

She couldn't talk to him about what was bothering her, because she couldn't talk to him about Jake. And Jake was every bit of what was bothering her. Jake was the reason she hadn't slept well in weeks; Jake was the reason for the ache she felt within. Eric didn't want to hear about that, and Calleigh wasn't about to start telling him that.

Retreating further within herself, Calleigh allowed her mind to drift back to the very earliest hours of her day, the hours which had set the stage for her troubled emotions up to this point. Despite the crisp, clean, brand new sheets she'd painfully placed on her bed, neither sleeping alone nor waking alone was any easier for her. She'd finally drifted into a shallow, restless sleep around an hour before her alarm would sound, and the disjointed dreams that had plagued her during that hour had helped to further exhaust her, rather than rejuvenate her tired body.

And as the unwelcoming blaring of the alarm had penetrated her shallow sleep, her body had cried out for that which she had grown so accustomed to feeling upon waking. Without Jake's strong arms around her, pulling her closer to him even in sleep, Calleigh had felt cold, shivering even under the blankets wrapped so tightly around her. Her forehead tingled, awaiting the feel of his lips against it, a kiss that, though her mind knew would never come, the rest of her had refused to accept that.

She had wanted to ignore the alarm; she'd wanted to roll over and pull the covers over her head and forget about the rest of the world. As if her exhaustion weren't enough, Calleigh still hurt far too much to even find the desire to crawl out of bed.

She just wanted to lay there and do nothing, something which the Calleigh of months before would've deemed simply unacceptable.

But somehow – maybe it was the pain of lying in an empty bed, or the memories that were sparked by the scents that not even crisp new sheets could mask – Calleigh found the effort, the will to force herself out of bed, leaving it carelessly unmade, covers thrown everywhere in the evidence of a rough night's sleep. She forced herself through her morning routine, brushing her teeth, taking a shower, clothing, hair, makeup.

Even after all that, as she looked in her bathroom mirror, the woman who peered back at her was completely unrecognizable to Calleigh. Dull, tired eyes, lifeless blonde hair, deep purple circles beneath her eyes accented by her ghostly pale skin…she was a wreck. A complete, utter wreck.

Closing her eyes, she'd taken several deep breaths, trying to mentally prepare herself for the day. Maybe she wasn't able to change her physical appearance – there would be no difference in that until she began sleeping again – but what she could do was take control of her emotions. Jake worked homicide; Calleigh worked in the lab. If she could play it right, Calleigh wouldn't have to see him today, making it just that much easier to ignore the emotional scars he'd cut within her. If she took control right now, right this very second, she could walk out of this bathroom and leave those emotions behind.

It wasn't easy, but it was something she found the strength of mind and will to do. Walking out of the bathroom, she held her head high. A stride of confidence, that was the first line of defense when it came to fooling the rest of the world, and eventually, hopefully herself as well.

In the kitchen, she'd grabbed a quick granola bar, deciding to forgo a real breakfast in favor of a quick start for the day. The sooner she could get to work and immerse herself in her case files, the sooner she could return to some sense of normalcy.

Her first real test came just as she was about to head out the front door. In the half-light of the earliest dawn hour, her head held high as she made to leave, Calleigh found herself nearly tripping over the boxes that still littered her foyer. Her hand came out, bracing herself against the wall as she looked down, her eyes falling upon the items that helped make Jake who he was; the items that helped shape their relationship.

As soon as the memories began to wash over her, Calleigh lifted her eyes, training her gaze on the ceiling above. She bit her lip and counted slowly in her mind, and clichéd though it was, it helped her regain that lost control. Breathing in and out slowly, she clenched her fists rhythmically, and slowly her heartbeat returned to normal, and she was able to rein in her emotions, pushing them down and away where she was certain they belonged.

_I can do this._

Convincing herself of that, Calleigh turned her back on the offending boxes and made her way out the front door, only looking back to make sure the door locked behind her.

She'd thought the worst was behind her, and then she'd gotten to work. The note from Jake that she'd received from Paula at reception had tried her strength so deeply, and, even though she hadn't read it, it had nearly broken the strong walls she'd begun to rebuild around her heart.

She'd had no choice but to rip the note into pieces without reading it. If the presence of the note itself had rocked her foundations like that, then Calleigh didn't want to think about what reading it would do to her. Ripping it up had been another part of moving on, of separating herself from Jake.

And now, here she was, contemplating all of this during a simple coffee date with Eric. He had no idea what he was asking from her; there was _no way_ that Calleigh could reveal any of that to him. The last thing he wanted to know was how it took every last reserve of her strength to even begin to let go of Jake, and still she was failing.

And the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

Allowing a soft yawn to escape her lips, Calleigh merely continued gazing out the window, watching all of the people wandering by as they went on with their lives; some smiling, some frowning, some looking as indifferent as could be, but yet all still managing to do what they needed to do. Why couldn't Calleigh find that strength? Why was she still being held back?

Watching her obvious hesitation, for a moment Eric had hope that maybe she would confide in him. He watched, mesmerized as she bit at her lip, her gaze becoming distant as she lost herself in thought, and as the moments drew on, he felt that hope disintegrate, knowing that slowly she was closing down in front of him. Whatever was bothering her, it was obviously bothering her very deeply, and pushing her would not yield a revelation; it would only cause her pain, if the look on her face was any indication.

Apologetically, Eric dropped his eyes, taking a long sip of his coffee. It was still a bit too hot, burning his tongue and throat as he swallowed, but he welcomed the stinging pain, ignoring the way it made his eyes water. As he set his cup down, he took a page from Calleigh's book, gazing down at the ripples as they swirled through the dark liquid. "I'm sorry for prying," he murmured, feeling a heaviness in every inch of his being. He hadn't wanted to upset her further.

Calleigh shook her head, blinking as she turned her head away from the window, training her gaze onto the table below. "It's okay," she whispered, though through her voice it was clear that she was anything but okay. A slight tremble reached her own ears, and Calleigh paused for a moment, breathing deeply as she forced herself back into the present moment. "It's just," she began, and Eric immediately lifted his head, hanging on every word that left her lips. "It's personal," she finished, giving a small shrug. "It's something I need to figure out on my own."

Eric nodded; though it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear, she had at least admitted that she wasn't okay. "If I can do anything…" he trailed off, allowing her to draw her own meaning from his intentions.

Finally, the ghost of a smile touched Calleigh's lips, and for a moment she was transformed back into the same woman that haunted Eric's dreams night after night. All she had to do was smile, and Eric was captivated. "Thanks, Eric," she replied softly, finally brave enough to lift her eyes to his. The concern in his dark eyes was not hidden to her, and despite her pain, a sense of warmth spread through her, simply from knowing just how much he cared.

As she lifted her cup to take a sip of coffee, Calleigh's eyes strayed unpredictably to his lips, but only for a second. As soon as she caught herself, she forced her eyes lower, back to the table as she set her cup down again. Suddenly, the images from just days before accosted her again. Within a moment's time, she had gone from dwelling on her break-up with Jake, to thinking about the kiss she'd shared with Eric, both of which were events that, right now, Calleigh just needed to forget about. The break-up had ended one relationship, and unless she could forget about it, a kiss could ruin another. "Eric, I…" she trailed off, shaking her head with a deep sigh.

Eric tilted his head, knowing that something different was on her mind, and from the way her body language had changed, he knew she needed to voice whatever it was. "What is it, Cal?" he asked gently, clasping his hands together in an effort to restrain himself from reaching out to her again. His fingers itched to touch her in some way, any way, no matter how insignificant. Still, he held himself back; he didn't want her to react the same way she had before.

She couldn't look at him, not while she was thinking about this. It was just too awkward for her, and instead she focused on her hands as she fidgeted slightly. "I, uh, I'm sorry, Eric," she murmured, feeling warmth begin to flood her cheeks. "About the other day, I mean."

At her words, Eric too dropped his eyes. "Don't worry about it," he replied quietly, knowing exactly what she meant. The kiss. _Their_ kiss. He'd known after it happened that an apology was coming, sometime. But that didn't stop the stab of pain that shot through his heart, through every part of his soul. She was apologizing, but there was no way to tell what drove her apology, whether it was guilt, regret, or something else.

Calleigh shook her head, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. "No," she said, staring resolutely into her coffee. "I do worry about it," she admitted. Pushing her cup out of the way, she rested her elbows on the table, giving into the temptation to hide her face in her hands. "I _am_ worried about it," she continued, her voice muffled. "I just need you to know that I'm sorry, Eric. I'm…I'm sorry." She hesitated, lowering her hands away from her face, but still she did not look up to Eric. "What you said to me this morning…"

Eric glanced up, hating the nervousness he perceived in every part of her face. He knew exactly what she was talking about, but he didn't say a word, instead choosing to let Calleigh work her way through this herself, knowing that was what she needed in that moment. "What you said," she continued, letting her fidgeting hands drop below the table. "We've been through a lot together. I feel like you've always been there for me, and there are times that I'm not sure what I would've done if you weren't there." She let out a deep breath as Eric watched her, honestly in awe over her confession. "I guess what I'm saying is, I don't want things to be awkward between us either. You…our friendship means too much to me to let that happen."

It was a double-edged sword, her words. An honest, heartfelt confession was something Eric had always craved from Calleigh, but at the same time, her words served to crush his heart within his chest. _Friendship._ Was she saying that she regretted kissing him? Was she saying it was a mistake?

Unexpectedly, Eric felt her hand brush against his beneath the table, and as he looked into her eyes, Calleigh gently clasped his hand in hers, squeezing softly. "I just want things to be okay between us," she murmured, a hint of pleading in her voice.

The amount of vulnerability revealed in her eyes, her voice – it astounded Eric; it shook him to the core. "We're always okay, Cal," he whispered, unable to find his voice. "You said it yourself," he continued with a slight smile, "we've been through a lot together. And here we are."

"Here we are," Calleigh repeated, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corner of her lips. Slowly she released his hand, and Eric couldn't help but feel the emptiness immediately. "God, Eric," she murmured, once more dropping her gaze. "I just…you…" she chuckled, struggling to find the words. "You've been my best friend practically since the day I met you, Eric." Despite the emotional restraint she'd been able to hold so far, she was still completely battered by everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks. Her barriers were still weak, and much to her dismay, Calleigh felt her eyes begin to sting. Beneath the table, she clenched her fists as hard as she could, hating herself for the emotions threatening to wash over her. "I – I can't lose that, not right now."

Before Eric could reply, the vibrating of Calleigh's phone broke through the moment they'd created, reminding them of the world which existed outside of their bubble. Embarrassment was plain on her face as she quickly reached for the phone, not even affording Eric an apologetic look as she answered it. "Duquesne."

For a moment, Eric merely studied his now-chilled coffee, weighing the meaning of Calleigh's words. He _still_ didn't know all that plagued her, but from what she revealed, and the way she looked in front of him, Eric could tell there remained a significant amount that he didn't know.

And there was the guilt. It hit him right in the heart, that guilt. He was feeling crushed because Calleigh kept using the word _friend._ But Calleigh was the one in the throes of an emotional breakdown, despite how well she tried to hide it. He still had her, but she was afraid of losing him.

With a heavy sigh, Calleigh closed her phone, finally looking to Eric with a small smile. "That was Valera. I had her run some samples for me before we left, and she's done. So I guess we should head back…" she trailed off, already standing.

"Yeah," Eric muttered. She'd pushed it back before, but now that their moment had passed, Calleigh's flight instinct was in full bloom. Following her lead, he stood with her, watching in disbelief as she began to make her way toward the door.

The drive back was made in silence, and if it had been any longer than a couple of blocks, Eric would've lost his mind. As much as he enjoyed being with her, he had to breathe a sigh of relief as he finally made it back to the lab and shifted into park, pulling the keys from the ignition. For a moment, Calleigh hesitated beside him, and Eric seized the chance for what it was. "You're not going to lose me," he murmured, a barely audible response to the fear she'd voiced back at the coffeeshop.

Chancing a glance from the corner of her eye, Calleigh merely smiled softly, finding herself unable to find the words to reply to that. She hesitated for a moment, then slowly she slipped her hand across the center console, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. With a sigh and a reciprocal squeeze from Eric, Calleigh released his hand, meeting his eyes once before she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, Eric following her lead as she climbed out of the Hummer.

And as together they made their way back toward the lab, Eric lay a gentle, comforting hand over the small of Calleigh's back, neither of them realizing that the tiny gesture had been witnessed by a pair of dark brown eyes.


	30. Letting Go

**_Chapter Thirty_**  
_**Letting Go  
**-**  
**_

He just couldn't tear his eyes away.

It was a scene that tore his already shredded heart into even tinier pieces, but still, Jake could not force himself to look away. It was vaguely reminiscent of the scene he'd stumbled on so long ago, the one that had led to his and Calleigh's first real fight (this time around, anyway), which in turn had led to their wreck. But this time, however, was different. Jake knew he could not go home to Calleigh after seeing this one, because he and Calleigh were no more. Now he was alone.

And alone he sat in the front seat of his car, his keys in his lap where he'd dropped them halfway to the ignition. His heart had stopped when he'd first caught sight of the telltale flash of blonde leaving the Hummer; even just seeing her sent the sharpest pain through his soul. But as he'd watched her companion step out of the driver's side of the Hummer…Jake couldn't even describe the surge of emotion that had moved through him.

And now, they were walking together. As close as they were walking, they may as well have been walking hand in hand, at least to Jake's eyes. And the worst part - Calleigh didn't look devastated. She didn't even look like she was hurting at all; she most certainly didn't look like Jake felt. He knew that Calleigh had always been so very good at concealing her true emotions, but then again, so had Jake. And Jake was a complete train wreck. He was so far torn up over Calleigh, and he wasn't sure that he was hiding it from anybody.

Within that train of thought also lurked the idea that always stayed just above the surface, just waiting to creep out at the most opportune time, during Jake's moments of deepest distress – as easily as Calleigh had sent him away, maybe he didn't mean anything to her at all. And as he watched her now, Jake couldn't help but retreat into the realm of his mind that believed that.

A soft smile adorned Calleigh's lips as she covered her eyes with her sunglasses, her golden locks flowing over her back, glowing in the light of the sun as she walked. And beside her, slightly behind her, was Eric Delko, and as Jake took in just how closely they walked, he couldn't help but feel as though he were spying on a private moment, a realization that only made him ache even more. Maybe Calleigh had shared these "private moments" with Eric all the while that they were together.

Another flash of pain shot through Jake's entire being as Delko lay his hand on Calleigh's back, gently leading her toward the doors. She glanced at him, peering over her sunglasses, her lips moving slowly as she spoke to him. Eric smiled warmly, nodding his head. His eyes never left hers until Calleigh looked away, and Jake swore he perceived a touch of pink in her cheeks. The interaction, though short, had Jake wishing that the earth would open up and swallow him, because in that moment he was certain of two things – one, it was the only way he'd be able to stop watching Calleigh and Delko, and two, nobody would miss him.

Flinching, Jake watched as Delko held the door for Calleigh, letting her inside before he followed. The door closed behind him, removing them both from Jake's line of sight, and he wasn't sure if he was aggravated or relieved by it. Either way, it was enough for Jake to reach once more for his keys and start the ignition, albeit this time with a shaky hand.

His lunch break was well upon him, but Jake had all but lost his appetite. It didn't matter, though; he hadn't planned on eating anything for lunch anyway. No, his lunch hour had been set aside for a more grueling task, and as he completed the all-too familiar drive in silence, he quickly found himself at his destination – the place he'd called home for the greater part of the past year.

His body moved automatically, his mind unable to process his movements, his steps. Lost in a fog, Jake's mind was all but empty; emptied, but not clear. His mind – his _conscience –_ had not been clear in months. Part of him wished nothing more than to be able to turn back time, back to a day when everything was simple between himself and Calleigh. But then again, their entire relationship had been based on complications, both times.

Before Jake knew it, he was at her door and reaching for his key. He never knew how he was going to find the strength to open the door, not when it took every last fiber of his strength to get out of his car, to make his way up the driveway, and finally to drag his feet up to her doorstep. As soon as his feet landed upon it, he couldn't help but remember the first time he'd ever stood upon this doorstep.

It felt like an eternity ago, that night. That humid May night had been the first time in so many years that he'd really, truly kissed her. The kiss in the lab earlier that day had been impulsive, urgent; but this kiss…it had been slow, sensual, _perfect._ And then, Calleigh had gazed at him with those beautiful green eyes of hers – still guarded, but Jake had never really expected her to welcome him back just like that, at least, not that quickly. But she had made the decision; she'd taken the chance. She'd opened her door to him, leading him by the hand back into her life, as well as, Jake had hoped, her heart.

But today, he was the one who would open the door. He would turn his key in the lock , knowing it would be the last time he used it. When he left here today, he would not be welcomed back. The knowledge made him even more reluctant to do this, but the fact remained that nearly all that he owned was here at her place.

And so with a deep breath, Jake summoned all the strength he could muster. Placing his key in the lock, he turned it and pushed the door open, for the very last time. Only one time had he felt half as dejected as he did now upon opening her door, and that had been the morning after their fight.

That morning, he hadn't known what to expect. He hadn't known what was going to happen. But today, Jake only had one task. He would not get to talk to Calleigh; he would not get the chance to comfort her. And he certainly would not get the chance to hold her in his arms, even if only for a moment. The realization nearly froze him, but somehow, he managed to step inside the door, focusing his mind on collecting his things.

But as soon as he stepped inside, it hit him immediately, the soft, distinctive scent of her home. Reflexively, Jake reached out, placing his palm against the wall as he felt his knees weaken. It was a scent unique to Calleigh's home, a mix of vanilla and Calleigh's own unique scent. In the mornings he would wake to it; at night, he'd fall asleep to it. And during those mornings and nights, he'd taken it for granted. And now, this very moment could be the last time he ever breathed it in.

It was a truth which ripped at every fiber of his being, but not nearly as much as the sight which greeted him. Right there in the foyer sat four boxes, a small note placed on top of one. With a deep sense of foreboding, Jake reached out, taking the small sheet into his hands and unfolding it slowly, carefully. _Caringly._

So plainly, her familiar handwriting leapt out at him, granting a temporary comfort to his eyes before his mind could take in the causticity of her words. They were cold, unfeeling, even detached; they merely told him what his eyes could already see – that she'd already taken the liberty of packing up his things for him.

Was she really that eager to throw him out? It was the question that plagued his mind as he placed the note gently in his pocket, his eyes shifting to the boxes before him. So quickly it seemed she had packed everything up, effectively separating him from her. And she'd left the boxes right at the front door, where they could easily and quickly be removed.

Calleigh was truly _done_ with him.

The thought suffocated him, leaving him breathing deeply but unable to find any oxygen. His lungs soon began to burn, and with adrenaline pumping through his veins, he bent down and lifted the first box into his arms, quickly carrying it outside to his car. Once it was in his trunk, Jake hesitated for a moment, breathing in deeply before heading back inside again.

Each trip was more painful than the last, but eventually all four boxes were packed away within his car. Jake was ready to leave; to leave, and never come back.

But instead of getting in his car, Jake found himself walking right back into her home – he had to stop himself every single time his mind tried to think of it as _their_ home. He knew he was no longer welcome there, but the emotional turmoil through which he'd suffered had long since terminated the part of his brain that knew right from wrong; the part that knew caution from recklessness.

His heart leading him, he left the small foyer, stepping further into her home as opposed to leaving once and for all. With quick steps, he found himself in her living room, finding it just as he had the first time he'd been in it. Everything was pristine, in its own place. It sent the reality even further home for Jake; Calleigh had wasted no time in putting things back to the way they'd been before him. He'd done little more than clutter up her life.

Flinching at the stinging that gripped him, Jake found himself crossing to the couch, his fingers brushing over the neatly folded blanket draped over the back of it. It was the blanket that had always been there, and as Jake buried his fingers in the soft fabric, he couldn't help but let his eyes drift closed, memories flying back to him in droves.

He'd spent many late nights curled up with Calleigh beneath that blanket. It didn't matter what was on the television; a movie, a late night talk show, maybe even a _very_ late night infomercial. It didn't matter; neither one of them cared about it much later than half past midnight. Usually by then, Calleigh had snuggled against him, her head either in the crook of his neck or atop his chest, just over his heart. Deep, steady breaths she took as dreams filled her sleep, and at that point, there was no way Jake would risk moving. To wake the sleeping beauty in his arms would be a crime.

He'd lost so much sleep on this very couch, just because he wanted to stay awake, savoring the feel of Calleigh in his arms, the sounds of her breathing and the tiny sighs that left her lips every now and then, the feel of her blonde locks against his lips as he lazily pressed kisses to the top of her head.

They were truly wonderful memories, and Jake once more cursed himself for letting her slip away from him, again.

But then again, letting her slip away from him would imply that he'd actually had her heart in the first place, and that was something that Jake was growing less and less sure of by the second.

With a sigh he released the blanket from his grasp, smoothing out the wrinkles he'd caused before turning his back on it, his feet already carrying him to his next destination. It was another room in which he'd felt more than at home in – her kitchen. Passing his fingers over the cool metal of the stove, Jake could see so easily in his mind each morning that he had made her breakfast. Along with every breakfast had come the playful look of satisfaction in Calleigh's eyes, the soft sighs and teasing moans of delight that had left her lips as she ate.

That memory faded slowly as another one slipped in to take its place; the memory of a night not too long ago. Upon the counter his beauty had sat, wearing little more than a flimsy cover-up. Wavy locks of blonde had swirled haphazardly over her shoulders, and the inviting sparkle in her eyes had taken Jake's breath away, yet again. A bowl of strawberries was beside her on the counter, and with one hand on Calleigh's thigh, Jake took one strawberry and lifted it to her lips, watching as she bit into it, her eyes closing in delight. As soon as she'd swallowed, Jake's lips were on hers, tasting strawberries, the taste made even sweeter just by being on her lips.

Unconsciously Jake licked his lips, disappointed to find not even the slightest trace of strawberries; _crushed_ to find not even the slightest trace of Calleigh. The realization brought him crashing back to reality, and he opened his eyes to find himself alone in her kitchen; no strawberries, no Calleigh. Just him and his broken heart.

Clenching a fist at his side, Jake breathed deeply, struggling to keep hold of his control. This excursion of his had been more painful than he'd expected, but still, he couldn't stop. With heavy steps he made his way into the hallway, his mind struggling against the expected memories; memories of so many nights where he and Calleigh had somehow made it through the hall and to the bedroom while slightly tangled together, stealing kisses at every opportunity.

Predictably, it was Jake's next stop – Calleigh's bedroom, and he hesitated just outside the door, knowing it was no longer a place he shared with her. But despite that, and the pain he knew he would encounter, Jake had never been one to back down. Breathing deeply, delivering more of the sweetest scent he knew to his nose, Jake stepped inside the already open door.

It was a sight similar to what he'd already seen in the rest of her home. Everything was perfect. The bed was perfectly made, the curtains were open to allow the perfect amount of sunlight to shine through. The items on her bedside tables were perfectly placed, and her closet door was ajar, clothing hung so neatly on hangers, and Jake couldn't help but flinch as he noticed the open spaces where some of his clothes used to hang.

His eyes strayed back to the bed, and he couldn't help but notice a subtle change –on the pillows were new pillowcases, and if he knew Calleigh, she'd probably changed the sheets and blankets as well. Calleigh had gone to the greatest extremes to remove him from her bedroom, her _sanctuary,_ and the reality of that multiplied the ceaseless ache by thousands.

Before he could stop himself, Jake reached out, and softly he brushed his fingertips over the top of her comforter, immediately finding himself accosted by a wave of memories; memories that would likely remain only memories. Jake could still feel the softness of the comforter, of the sheets over his sweat-cooled skin; he could still see Calleigh laying beside him, propped up on her elbow as she drew lazy patterns along his chest. Her hair was adorably tousled, and her eyes bore a sated, dreamy look as she slowly came down from the euphoria of their lovemaking.

God, how he missed seeing that look in her eyes. It was the one time she was completely unguarded with him; it was the one time that he felt he truly meant as much to her as she did to him.

Now, it ripped his heart to shreds to know that he'd exhausted his very last second chance. The crimes he'd committed against her heart had once again outweighed the depth of her feeling for him. She was done with him, and the proof was in the four boxes that he had painfully placed within his car. She'd removed him from her home, from her life.

He was no more than a memory to her; likely, no more than a bad memory.

And suddenly, the pain became too much. It was unbearable; worse than the deepest physical pain he'd ever experienced while undercover, and during those days and long nights, Jake had found himself on the wrong sides of fists, knives, guns…he'd taken literal beatings in the past, but at least he'd been able to heal from that. Physical pain dulled, and the most he had remaining from any of that were a few scars here and there. But emotional pain, the deepest heartbreak…was it even possible to come back from that?

Feeling smothered, Jake took one last good look around, and then he turned away and walked back into the hallway, making his way back to the front foyer in a mere fraction of the time his original journey had taken. As badly as he wanted to stay, the pain of being so immersed in her presence was far too much, and as it stood, he'd already taken care of what he'd needed to do – collecting his things.

But now, as he pulled his keys from his pocket, Jake realized that there remained one more thing he needed to do. His head downward, his dark eyes gazed upon his key ring, turning them in his hands, wincing slightly as the quiet tinkling sound reached his ears. The key to her place was placed snugly between the key to his car and the key to his apartment, but not for much longer.

As he held it within his hands, Jake couldn't help but return within his mind to the moment that the key had become his own; a moment that he wished nothing more than to be able to return to.

_Standing at her bedside, Jake took a moment to merely gaze down at her beauty. Her hair was tousled from sleep, and her chest rose and fell with her breath beneath the blankets in which she snuggled, seeking out warmth. He hated to wake her, but even more than that, he hated to leave without waking her. _

_Actually, he hated to leave her, but he had no choice. An early phone call had pulled him from the bed and, subsequently, from her embrace. He was needed at a scene that morning, a full two hours before Calleigh would even have to wake up._

_With a sigh, Jake softly stroked his fingers through her blonde locks. "Calleigh," he called quietly, but her only response was a quiet, sleepy whimper. And oh, how Jake wished he had time to tease her, but time wasn't something he had a lot of this morning; otherwise, he knew of more inventive ways of waking her. This morning, however, soft kisses would have to do._

_"Calleigh, sweetheart…" he coaxed, gently showering kisses over her forehead, her cheeks, just brushing her lips. Calleigh sighed beneath the gentle assault, the soft kisses eventually pulling her completely back to the realm of the living, at which point she couldn't help but smile. _

_Her smile faded slightly, though, once Jake revealed to her the reason for this early awakening. "I got a call from dispatch," he murmured apologetically. "I have to head out to South Beach here in a few minutes, but I didn't want to leave without waking you." He didn't like the sad look in her eyes, and, intent on making it disappear, he lowered his head and captured her lips with his before she could protest. _

_Her arms wrapped lazily around his neck, pulling him closer to her, wishing she could coax him back to bed with her. Their tongues mingled as the kiss progressively deepened, and Jake groaned, threading his fingers through the softness of her hair. Kissing her was addictive; it was like oxygen to him, something he couldn't live without. _

_But in the back of his mind, he couldn't forget the one reason why he wasn't still in bed with her, why he couldn't lose himself so completely in this kiss. "Calleigh," he mumbled between kisses, feeling her nails scratch at his neck. "I have…to go…"_

_Calleigh sighed in disappointment, releasing his lips with a pout. "I don't want you to," she murmured, her pink tongue swiping over her lips. _

_Jake grinned, dropping a soft kiss to her jawline. "I don't want to either," he replied, wishing more than anything that he could slip back under the covers with her. "But I have to go to work, babe," he added, slowly trailing his lips back to hers. _

_"Okay," Calleigh relented, her lips brushing tantalizingly against Jake's as she spoke. "But…there's something…" She was cut off as Jake pressed his lips fully against hers, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss. By the time he pulled away, Calleigh was breathless, barely able to remember what she'd been trying to tell him. Breathing deeply, she gave herself a moment to recover, allowing her thoughts once more to assemble themselves. "Um…you know the table? The little one in the front foyer?" she murmured, trailing a fingertip over Jake's cheek. _

_"What about it?"_

_Calleigh gave a soft smile. "Open the drawer on the front of it before you leave. It, uh, it may be underneath some junk, but there's a key in there, and it's yours."_

_Jake couldn't fight the grin that broke over his lips. "Mine?"_

_"I want you to have it," Calleigh said, giggling softly at the expression of glee on Jake's face. "It's yours."_

"Not anymore," Jake murmured quietly, his heart wrenching as he slowly slipped the key from his keyring. He had no right to it any longer, no matter how badly he wanted to keep it. It was the last piece of Calleigh's that he had, and now he would release even that.

Closing his eyes, he tightened his fingers around the warm metal, feeling the sharpness of the key digging into his skin. Though momentary, the flash of physical pain it brought him was a nice change from the emotional anguish he'd faced for so long. It wasn't enough to stave off his heartbreak, however, and as soon as Jake opened the tiny drawer on the table in the foyer, he felt his heartbeat quicken, sending a surge of what felt like poison through his veins. It burned so deeply, and it took the greatest amount of strength he could muster just to drop the tiny key into the drawer and slam it shut once more.

And that was all he could take. It was all he could do to keep from sinking to the floor right there in the foyer; the pain consumed him so completely that he wasn't sure he could make it back to work. But he had to, for work was the one place where Jake felt as though he belonged. His apartment meant nothing to him, and now, he could no longer call Calleigh's place home either.

And so, for the last time, Jake pulled himself out the front door, closing it behind him, once more leaving with the jagged pieces of his fragmented heart.

**..**

Night had long since fallen by the time Calleigh made it home that evening. The sky had already surrendered its last vestiges of light, cloaking the world in a darkness lit only by the artificial light from the lampposts. The day had had been long, and as Calleigh slipped her key into the lock, all she wanted to do was relax for a while, and then head to bed and forget about the entire day. A soft smile began to cross over her lips; on the table next to her couch there was a half-finished novel, and the idea of reading some of it, and then running a hot bath before bed appealed to her like nothing else had in a long time.

But as soon as she stepped inside the door, Calleigh knew at once that something was different. Stifling a yawn, she reached a hand out to the wall, fumbling a bit before at last her fingers found the light switch. Within a second, the foyer was flooded in light, and Calleigh blinked, willing her eyes to adjust to the sudden illumination.

And as they did adjust, Calleigh couldn't help but breathe in sharply as she realized just what was different.

The boxes were gone. Jake's things were gone, completely and finally removed from her home. Jake was _gone._

It had been what Calleigh had wanted, right?

So why didn't she feel relieved? Why didn't she finally feel better?

Instead, Calleigh felt the remainder of her energy drain from her body, replaced with an indomitable tiredness, an emotional and physical exhaustion. Instinctively, her hand went to her neckline, but her fingers came upon the simple necklace she'd placed around her neck that morning, instead of the medallion which she suddenly had the greatest urge to hold.

Mentally she berated herself for that urge, knowing it was not something she should be feeling. It was a weakness, and Calleigh had said goodbye to the weaknesses she'd recently succumbed to the moment she'd ended things with Jake. That had been the moment that she'd taken control of her own life again. From that moment on, she was supposed to feel what she wanted to feel, when she wanted to feel it.

So why wasn't it working like that? Why did she still feel trapped?

With a deep sigh, Calleigh turned the light off once more, unable to gaze upon the empty space that Jake had left any longer. Her footsteps inexplicably heavy, Calleigh left the foyer behind, not bothering to turn on any lights as she moved. The darkness matched her mood, the mood she'd carried with her for much of the past few…even Calleigh wasn't sure how much time had passed since her life had taken such a downward swing.

A year ago, Calleigh had been happy. Jake had been interested; Eric had been interested. She'd enjoyed a playful flirtation with the both of them. And now, if only she could go back to that…

The playful flirtation had been harmless. But now…Jake had hurt her, and she had hurt Eric. All of them were suffering, all because Calleigh had made the decision to go to dinner that night with Jake.

Suddenly, her quiet evening of reading and catching a late night show or two didn't appeal to her anymore. Even the idea of a hot bath no longer called out to her. Now, all Calleigh wanted was to down a glass of wine as a last resort to ease her nerves, her emotions, and then head to bed.

And that was exactly what she was going to do.

**..**

_Freezing. Utterly freezing. It was the only way Calleigh could describe the way she felt right now. Every frantic beat of her heart pulsed ice water through her veins, chilling every last inch of her body. Anxiously she bit at her lip, her eyes flitting to the clock on the wall every few seconds. Its deafening echo filled the tiny room effortlessly, but despite the aural proof of the passage of time, Calleigh felt as though she were locked in a single moment where time had frozen._

_As she struggled to breathe, Calleigh would swear that the stark white walls were crashing in on her, crushing her, leaving her with no escape. But even if there were an escape, Calleigh knew that the moment she tried to stand would be the moment her legs turned to jelly. The stiff, uncomfortable blue armchair had become her perch, and from it she would not move. _

_Never before had she felt so alone. She just wanted her husband; she just wanted her lively, beautiful daughter. _

_But her husband was in Charlotte for the weekend for some convention or other; what it was wasn't important to Calleigh right now._

_And her daughter, her beautiful, lively Hailey…she lay unconscious in the bed before her, her chest rising and falling softly as she breathed in and out. Stiff white sheets surrounded her small frame, and Calleigh just knew they weren't enough to keep Hailey warm. Her fingers itched to draw a quilt over her, but that would mean leaving the room, leaving her daughter. _

_And right now, Calleigh never wanted to let the little girl out of her sight ever again. Never._

_She'd always been afraid that something like this would happen. Hailey was every bit her father's daughter. She was growing up; she was taking more and more risks, and Calleigh didn't like it. She was the girl who would jump from the highest structure on the playground, just for the sake of jumping. She laughed in the face of scraped knees and elbows. _

_But today, her riskiness had gotten the best of her. Sure, it had been an accident, but it might not have happened if Hailey had been just a little more careful._

_There was a vibration at Calleigh's hip, startling her back into the moment. A quick glance at the display had her heart leaping into her throat, and with a shaky hand she quickly brought the phone to her ear. "Oh my God," she started, bypassing any salutation. "You don't know how crazy I went when I couldn't get to you earlier," she said frantically, remembering the five voicemails she had left him just a couple hours before. _

_On the other end of the line, his voice was as frightened as hers was. "There was a presentation; I had my phone off. I just out of it and got time to check my messages," he said quickly, a shudder rushing through his body. The surge of fear that had consumed him when he'd heard her messages had been like nothing he'd ever felt before. He'd only been able to pick out two words during the first listen – Hailey, hospital. "What happened? Is she okay?"_

_With her free hand, Calleigh rubbed at her tired eyes. "She hasn't woken up yet," she replied gravely, watching her beautiful daughter lying just feet away from her. She looked almost as though she were just sleeping, and Calleigh wished with everything within her that that was merely the case. "I just – when I got the call – I don't know –" she stuttered, quickly feeling her control slip away from her. When she'd been alone, she'd been able to hold it together, but now that she could hear her husband's voice, she wasn't too sure how much longer she could last like this._

_"Calleigh, sweetheart, slow down," he coaxed gently, sensing the struggle his wife was facing on the other end of the phone. It was hard, but for the moment he forced himself to push his own fears to the side in order to be strong for her. However, he couldn't help but think he was failing miserably, considering the sheer amount of adrenaline surging through his veins. "Tell me what happened."_

_Calleigh let out a shaky breath, her fingers absently fraying the ends of the blanket that covered her daughter. "She begged and begged me," she began, her eyes widening as she thought Hailey's hand twitched. But the movement didn't happen again, leaving Calleigh sure that she'd imagined it. "So this morning, I let her go to Amanda Brewer's house, you know, one of her friends from school. They have a pool, and that's why Hailey wanted to go so bad. She was just so excited, so I let her go."_

_On the other end of the phone, his heart was racing, knowing that Calleigh's deepest fear was something happening to Hailey while neither of them were there to watch her. "Cal?" he prompted, growing more and more frightened as her pause drew on._

_Unable to sit any longer, Calleigh rose from her chair and crossed to the small window on the other side of the room. Outside, the sun continued to shine, but there was no comforting warmth in its rays. "She fell," Calleigh whispered, unable to breathe due to the growing lump in her throat. "The girls; they were out back at the pool, and Amanda's mom was watching them. Said she'd already warned them about running around the pool several times. But," she paused, sighing deeply. "You know Hailey."_

_"Yeah." The word was laced with several emotions – fear, frustration, apprehension, worry. He knew exactly how his daughter was, and quite often, he was amused by it. He himself took risks, and to see so much of himself in her usually made him smile. But while his own riskiness had never really hurt him, it seemed to have caught up with his daughter. _

_Calleigh glanced back to the little girl in the bed behind her. "She fell," she said again. "It's an in-ground pool - water had splashed up on the concrete sides every time they'd gotten out to jump back in. And Hailey – she had just gotten out and was running to jump back in. Apparently she slipped on some water. She fell back and hit her head."_

_There was a sharp intake of air from the other end of the phone line. "Oh my God."_

_"They couldn't wake her up. They called 911, and then they called me." Calleigh shuddered, remembering the way her world had all but stopped when she'd gotten that call. "I don't know how I managed to drive myself here," she murmured. "The doctor's say she's okay though," she continued quickly, wishing the words were as soothing as they potentially could be, but until she could see her daughter's dark eyes and hear her voice, Calleigh would continue to worry herself sick. _

_"She's okay?" he repeated, needing to say the words himself. _

_"That's what they said," Calleigh repeated. "I mean, they did the scans and everything, and the doctor said everything appeared normal, except she does have a concussion. They said she was awake when they brought her in; awake and…asking for you," Calleigh added softly. The words tugged at his heart as he continued to listen intently. "She did get knocked out, and she was already resting again when I got here." She sighed. "I just want her to wake up for me."_

_"I thought you weren't supposed to sleep after a concussion?" he questioned, remembering when a friend of his had a concussion several years back. _

_"I always thought that too," Calleigh replied, slowly crossing the room once more. With shaking fingers, she reached out, softly stroking her daughter's blonde locks. "But they said that since she was awake when they brought her in, and as long as she's awake every few hours or so, that it's okay for her to rest. Good, even. They say the danger's not in sleeping, but in the fact that sleeping can hide anything that may be wrong."_

_He nodded, though knowing that Calleigh couldn't see him. He gave a sigh of relief, feeling better now than he had upon hearing Calleigh's frantic voicemail messages. At least he knew now that Hailey would be okay. "Calleigh," he murmured, shifting his attention to her. "Are _you_ okay?"_

_For a moment, there was silence from her end. He could hear her breathing; though muffled, it remained shaky, belying the depth of her fear. "I just," Calleigh began finally, letting out a deep sigh. The tremble in her voice was audible over the phone. "I just really wish you were here with me..." _

_From his end of the line, there was no hesitation. "Baby, I'm on the next flight out of here. I promise." He paused, just waiting for Calleigh to protest his idea. But that expected protest never came, and the realization of how much she needed him with her right now tugged at his heart. "I love you, Calleigh," he said so sincerely, meaning it as much as he had the first time he'd told her. "Hailey too."_

_"I love you," Calleigh murmured in response. With a sigh and a slump of her shoulders, she closed her phone and once more, she lowered herself into the chair before her daughter's bed. With a shaking hand, she reached out, softly brushing through Hailey's silky blonde locks. Hailey twitched slightly at the touch, and Calleigh's heart leapt into her throat. "Hailey?"_

_It was a sense of relief like she'd never felt before. Hailey whimpered softly, shifting beneath the stiff white blankets. And then slowly, her dark brown eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times as she tried to discern her surroundings. Confusion filled her beautiful eyes, until she turned her head to the left, finding her mother beside her. And the next thing Calleigh heard had such a smile of relief stretching over her lips._

_"Mommy…"_

**_.._**

This time, as Calleigh awoke in a cold sweat, feeling more exhausted than she had before, she found she could no longer summon up the strength to keep her emotions at bay. Beneath the cover of darkness, Calleigh once more allowed her tears to flow, the salty moisture mixing with the cooling sheen of sweat along her cheeks. And as once more her mind forced her to acknowledge the total train wreck that her life had become, Calleigh found that, yet again, she couldn't stop the tears.

Tears of exhaustion, confusion, loneliness, utter frustration flowed incessantly from her tired, burning eyes, and the harder she tried to control them, the more they seemed to overtake her. No matter what she did, she couldn't seem to grasp a full night's sleep. Her work was suffering; her _life_ was suffering because of it. She knew it was the first thing she had to change before anything else could change, and she _knew_ that it would take time, but time wasn't a luxury she seemed to have right now.

And the frustration didn't make things any better. Her mind was tangled with thoughts of Jake, of Eric. She was no closer today to knowing the correct answer than she'd been a year ago. Was it really that difficult a decision, or was Calleigh just completely incapable of making it?

_And who was Hailey? _Why did Calleigh feel such a strong connection to the girl who in her dreams was her daughter, but who didn't even exist outside of that realm?

So many questions continued to spiral around her abused, exhausted mind, even after she'd made the one decision that should've made everything easier. She'd let go of Jake, her greatest complication, and in turn, everything seemed to only grow more complicated.

At this point, Calleigh just didn't know what to do.

She'd reached the breaking point days and days before, only to find that it was a breaking point from which she could not escape.

And frankly, she was exhausted from merely trying.


	31. Miscommunication

**_Chapter Thirty-One_**  
_**Miscommunication**  
-**  
**_

_The break room door abruptly came open, startling Calleigh as she sat at the table, enjoying a sandwich as she flipped through a magazine. After the morning she'd had, Calleigh had relished the idea of a quiet lunch break, but now that seemed to slip through her fingers as Natalia stormed in, a deep look of irritation in her eyes. _

_Natalia made a beeline for the coffee machine, and Calleigh wondered if maybe she should pack up and head out, giving her a chance to cool off alone. But then, as Natalia poured her coffee, she voiced the source of her annoyance – a subject that Calleigh'd had her own bit of difficulty with. _

_"Men," Natalia groaned, rolling her eyes extravagantly. "Don't you just hate them? Because I do."_

_Calleigh finished her sandwich, giving her mouth something to do besides giving a knowing smile. "Nick, again?" she asked sympathetically, closing her magazine._

_"Yes, Nick," Natalia replied, bringing her coffee over to the table, where she took a seat across from Calleigh. "He just won't stop. Did you know he's shown up at every crime scene I've had this week?"_

_Calleigh pursed her lips. "Well, he _is_ part of the clean-up crew," she replied, not wanting to appear as though she were siding with Nick, but knowing it was the truth. "It's his job to be there."_

_Natalia scoffed. "It's only his job because he won't leave me alone," she grumbled. "If I wasn't a CSI, there's no way he'd be caught dead working clean-up. He's just doing it to make my life miserable, as if he hasn't done enough of that already." Giving a deep sigh, Natalia gazed deep into her coffee mug. "You know, sometimes," she began, a little less edge in her voice than what had been there before – after all, she wasn't serious about this. "I think I want to kill him."_

_Calleigh gave a soft chuckle, her expression light as she regarded the woman sitting across from her. "Men, huh?" she sighed, repeating Natalia's earlier sentiment with a small smile at her lips. _

_Nodding her head, Natalia gave a hearty hum of agreement. Venting to Calleigh had already helped calm her anger. "Why do we even bother with them? I forget…" she continued after a moment, a new playfulness in her voice. Across from her, Calleigh leaned forward, a sparkle in her eyes as she rested her elbows on the table, listening intently. In leaving New Orleans so many years ago, she'd left behind all of her female friends. It was nice to once again partake in a bit of girl-talk. "I mean, what good are they?"_

_"Well, they come in useful sometimes…" Calleigh replied thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly. "They're strong, they're good-looking, they've got warm arms," she continued, a faux-dreamy look in her verdant eyes. _

_"Some of them are," Natalia appended, slightly waving her hand. "Some of them, though, you just never want to see again. They're evil, I tell you."_

_Calleigh smirked. "Oh, come on, Nat," she teased, a chuckle in her voice. "They're not _all_ evil," she added, grinning. "Some of them are really sweet."_

_Natalia pursed her lips, allowing herself to think for a moment. "Yeah, I'll give you that one," she replied softly, giving a slight shrug. A small smile appeared on her lips as she thought. "That's definitely something I'd say about Eric. I'd be hard-pressed to find a man more caring than Eric is. And the funny thing is that we didn't actually date, you know? It wasn't exactly like we ever went out or anything," she clarified, a slight tint coloring her cheeks. "And yet, he was always sweeter than any of the men that ever took me out for dinner or a movie, or something they thought was romantic."_

_"Well, that's Eric for you," Calleigh replied softly, smiling. "When he cares about you, he cares completely."_

_"Yeah," Natalia agreed quietly, her thoughts tracing back to the place where he'd shown his caring nature the most – their pregnancy scare. He hadn't turned his back on her; instead, every word out of his mouth had been "we." He hadn't tried to walk away, to get out of it like so many others Natalia knew might. Eric had been ready to step up and take responsibility, and he'd thought it ridiculous that Natalia might think he wouldn't. "He's great," she added, deciding to keep that part of her life private. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" she asked quickly, wanting to move away from that subject. Calleigh nodded, and Natalia gave a grin and continued. "Did you guys ever, you know…?"_

_Calleigh stared. "What, me and Eric?" she asked, dumbfounded that Natalia would think that._

_Natalia grinned. "Well, yeah. Who else would I be talking about?"_

_"No," Calleigh replied, shaking her head. "Eric and I…we never…what makes you ask that?"_

_Natalia gave a shrug. "I don't know. You two just seem awful close, that's all. And you've known each other forever, right?"_

_"Yeah, but still," Calleigh replied, pushing a lock of hair away from her face. "We're friends; always have been."_

_She hesitated, and Natalia picked up on it immediately. "Okay, spill," she challenged, leaning forward._

_"There's nothing to spill, really!" Calleigh protested with a roll of her eyes. "It's just that, there was a time that I thought…I thought maybe there was something there…" she trailed off, slightly intimidated by the gleam in Natalia's eyes. "Nothing happened, Natalia," she insisted. "After he spent the night –"_

_"After he what?" Natalia interrupted, her eyes wide. An amused grin was quickly stretching across her lips; clearly she thought she'd landed upon the greatest gossip the lab had ever seen._

_"Would you let me finish?" Despite her best efforts, Calleigh could feel a smile forming along her own lips. "After he spent the night on my couch a few years ago, without anything happening, I figured whatever that had been between us at the beginning had died. After that…we were just friends. He's been one of my closest friends for practically forever, which means a lot since in this job, it's hard to keep really close friends. At least, for me it is."_

_Pausing, Calleigh anxiously bit at her lip. "But if I could find somebody who cared like Eric cared…" she let the thought hang in the air, shaking her head with a sigh."The men that have come in and out of my life, most of them have either lied, cheated, gone crazy, or gotten engaged," she mused, ticking off the numbers on her fingers. "My history with men is not exactly sparkling," she joked, a corner of her lips turned upward. "Then again, I always manage to chase the ones that are completely wrong for me."_

_"Oh, I know that one," Natalia replied. "You give in to their charm. Then you take them home, they give you good sex, and then they break your heart," she proclaimed, nodding seriously. "And you're lucky if the sex is good. I don't know about you, but that doesn't at all seem worth it to me."_

_Calleigh laughed. "Well," she began, taking a sip of her coffee, grimacing as she realized it had gone cold. "I'll leave you to worry about that one while I relax in my happy single bubble," she remarked, gathering her hair and pushing it over her shoulders, allowing it to fall over her back. "For once in my life, I don't have any guy drama, and I'd like to keep it that way." She grinned. "No men; all me."_

_Natalia gave a snort of amusement. "No guy drama? What are you talking about, Cal?" _

_"What? I don't have any!" Calleigh protested, lifting her hands in defense, though a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. She had an idea of where Natalia was taking this. _

_And she was right. "Oh, come on, Cal," Natalia teased, her eyes sparkling conspiratorially. "You know how the gossip mill runs around this place. It's like the walls all have eyes and ears. Not to mention I've seen it with my own eyes too."_

_"Seen what?" Calleigh exclaimed, by now honestly curious as to what Natalia thought she had seen. She didn't have a boyfriend; she hadn't had one in quite some time. And as badly as her last few relationships had turned out, Calleigh was quite happy to enjoy the freedom of a single life._

_Natalia grinned. "Oh, I've seen a lot," she replied playfully, giving a meaningful wink. "And from what I've seen, that Jake Berkeley's got his eye on you." She lifted her brows, as though just asking Calleigh to challenge that._

_A smile tugging at her lips, Calleigh let out a slow, deep sigh. "Yeah," she said slowly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she watched Natalia lean in closer, just knowing she was getting the firsthand scoop on a juicy story. "Been there," she said simply, giving a slight nod, wishing Natalia would let it go with that._

_Her eyes widened. "Been there, done that?" _

_Ducking her gaze, Calleigh couldn't help the slight tint rising in her cheeks. "Don't say it like _that_," she replied, this time giving into the urge to roll her eyes. _

_"Well, how else should I say it?" Natalia questioned, knowing there was a far deeper story there than what she was getting. She paused for a moment, giving Calleigh the chance to speak, but the blonde never took it. "Okay," Natalia pressed, her grin ever widening. "You and Jake Berkeley. Spill."_

_Calleigh gave an exasperated yet amused sigh. "It was a long time ago, Natalia," she replied. "We went to the academy together…and we dated then…" she trailed off, closing the story with that. That was the past, and therefore not a part of her life that she felt like reliving. "Like I said, it was a long time ago."_

_Natalia frowned; she'd wanted details, but the strong warning in Calleigh's voice urged her not to go there. But as Calleigh had said, that was the past. What about the present? "Long time ago or not, that look he was giving you today was enough to make any woman melt." With a teasing grin, Natalia gave a false, extravagant shiver. "Gave me chills just watching him watch you. If somebody would look at me like that…"_

_Once more, Calleigh gave a slight roll of her eyes. "Then why don't you go after him?" Lifting her coffee cup to her lips, Calleigh hid the frown that formed on her face. Though she told herself firmly that it was the past, she couldn't help the surge of emotion that welled within her. Pain, irritation, jealousy…she wasn't exactly sure what it was, but it was there. She'd seen it with her own eyes so many times in the past; Jake was smooth with the ladies. He knew just the right things to say or do to have them swooning into his arms – he'd used his charm on Calleigh plenty enough in the past. He was a natural flirt; it had annoyed Calleigh to no end to watch her girlfriends back in New Orleans swoon over him. _

_Especially since they didn't know the real Jake. But Calleigh had, and what Natalia had said earlier seemed to fit so neatly with him. Jake had always been a sweet-talker, and as young and naïve as she had been, Calleigh had easily been coaxed into his arms, into his bed. And it was as soon as she'd started to fall for him that things began to change. The deeper she fell, the more nights she spent alone. Natalia had inadvertently summed their relationship up – they'd had their sweet beginning, the sex had been great, but in the end, all Jake had done was break her heart._

_And that wasn't anything Calleigh wanted to go through again. _

_"Because I told you," Natalia replied, breaking Calleigh away from the past. "I'm done with men for awhile." She paused, swirling what remained of her coffee in her cup. "Even if one did look at me the way he looked at you, I don't know if I'd bother. Sometimes it's just not worth the pain."_

**_.._**

Harshly bright sunlight beat down upon Calleigh as her black heels carried her toward the yellow tape just a few yards away. Her sunglasses proved an unworthy shield for the sun's rays; even behind them, her eyes were squinted, nearly blinded from the powerful light. The kit in her hand felt especially heavy today, just as she'd known it would after a week and a half away.

Ten days ago, Calleigh'd finally had enough. She was tired of the tears; tired of the heartache. She was tired of not sleeping; she was tired of sleeping and waking less energized than she had when she'd gone to bed. She was tired of every single room in her home reminding her of the mess her life had become.

And so, Calleigh had turned to her last resort. It was time to dip into the stock of vacation days she'd stored up. She needed to get out of her house; she needed to get out of Miami…Calleigh would even go as far as to say she needed to get out of Florida. After clearing her time off with Horatio, she went online and quickly made a last minute reservation. Uncharacteristically carelessly, she'd shoved some clothes into a suitcase along with a few other essentials, and then she was gone.

The eight hour drive had been therapeutic in itself - driving up the coast by herself, with the windows open and the wind blowing through her blonde locks, leaving Miami behind. Leaving all complications behind; leaving her issues behind…leaving _them _behind. What Calleigh needed to do was heal, which wasn't something she could do when she couldn't escape. Jake was at work; his presence remained in her home no matter how desperately she'd tried to remove him, causing her a deep ache in the most hidden parts of her heart. Eric was at work; his presence lurked in the back of her mind, causing the guilt to bubble up within her every time she saw his face.

She felt pulled in both directions, and it was tearing her apart. The only way she knew of to help that was to get away, at least for a while. And eight days in Hilton Head had helped clear her mind beyond what she'd thought at all possible. For the first time in ages, Calleigh had felt relaxed, comfortable. She'd even _slept._ Without the help of medication or wine, she had collected several hours of the most relaxing sleep she'd had in forever. If nothing else, her time away had granted her that, and upon coming home, she'd been able to unpack and relax at home for the two days she had left before going back to work.

But now, as she walked once more back into the turmoil that had plagued her life for so much of the past year, Calleigh felt the familiar apprehension well up within her. Through the searing heat that rippled the air, Calleigh could see them, both of them.

Eric was kneeled, his camera at his eye as he snapped photographs of the evidence, making sure to leave no piece unseen. His posture was tense, and Calleigh knew he was still worried about missing something; about not being one hundred percent due to the bullet in his head. He was dressed casually for the summer heat; a pair of khakis and one of the white, floral-printed button-downs he'd been favoring as of late.

And mere steps away from him stood Jake, looking professional in a suit, complete with a tie – a tie which, Calleigh realized with a jolt, had been one she'd found peeking out from under her bed as she'd packed all of his things away. His eyes were studying the notepad in his hands; occasionally, he jotted something new down, his lips moving as he relayed the information to Eric. His hair was slightly tousled just as it always was, and Calleigh felt the lightest twitch in her fingertips as her mind briefly reminded her what it was like to run her fingers through it, before she abruptly shut that train of thought down.

Her steps brought her ever closer, and with a deep sigh, she lifted the yellow tape and passed beneath it, already dreading the coming moments. But the determined clack of her heels on the pavement, Calleigh forced away her anxiety and took a deep breath, trying quickly to steel herself before she trusted herself enough to speak.

Her steps only wavered slightly as she closed in on both of them. "What've we got?" Calleigh called out, plastering a false cheery smile on her lips. This was the worst possible scenario she could've ever come back to.

Both men straightened up, looking to Calleigh with very different looks in their eyes. It was a coin toss for Calleigh as to which one would take the lead, but the answer was quickly revealed to be Eric. His stance wavered, as though he wanted to step closer to her but forced himself to deny the urge. Instead, he squinted in the sunlight, fixing Calleigh with an intense gaze as he spoke. "Hit and run, happened a couple hours ago. Alexx already came and got the body. We've got tire treads, transfer, and a possible point of impact. There's –"

"Witnesses said the car was yellow," Jake interrupted, his eyes once again buried in his notes. "Small; a sports car, probably."

"Yeah, I was getting to that," Eric said, a sheepish smile on his lips despite his annoyance. "I was just giving the more important evidence a higher priority."

Jake tilted his head, a note of challenge in his dark eyes. He still hadn't forgotten the little scene he'd watched between Eric and Calleigh nearly two weeks ago, and he still wasn't feeling very benevolent toward the other man. The only reason he'd been stuck on this case with him was because he hadn't been successful in getting reassigned. And now that Calleigh was here, it made everything just a little more tense.

He really should've taken a sick day today.

"So, you mean the witnesses aren't important?" he quipped, his eyes only barely glancing to Calleigh.

Eric tensed, biting at the inside of his cheek. "That's not what I said," he replied, a bit coldly. "Witness testimony can be skewed by many things; environment, time of day, weather, fear…any number of things. The evidence – the actual, unequivocal evidence – tells us the truth, regardless. It can't lie."

"Which is what I like about it," Calleigh murmured, unaware that she'd said it out loud until she felt Eric's eyes on her.

"Cal?" he asked, lifting a softly questioning brow. Her words had carried an obvious note of bitterness, though Eric couldn't tell what she meant; what, exactly, she was referring to.

Calleigh shook her head, dismissing her cryptic statement. "Nothing," she said lightly, nonchalantly waving a hand. "Eric's right," she said, her words clearly directed to Jake though her eyes stayed away. "You can't always trust the witnesses."

_But at least the witnesses have an excuse. They, at least, can blame the lies on skewed perception._

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Calleigh turned her eyes to the tire treads present on the asphalt, though her concentration was slow to follow. With each passing moment, the tension within and around her seemed to rise more and more, growing just as oppressive as the summer heat.

Jake faltered, though only momentarily. To hear her side with Eric, whether or not he was right, hurt more than he was willing to admit. "Sometimes," he retorted, his tone a little more caustic than he'd intended, "you can't see the whole story just by looking at the evidence," he finished, not entirely referring to the case before them.

Calleigh narrowed her eyes, Jake's veiled implications not hidden to her. The very heart of her did not want to hash this out here, in public, in front of Eric, but when Jake presented the bait, Calleigh could never refuse taking it. "You don't need testimony when the evidence is right there in front of you," she countered, an angry fire in her emerald eyes. "You can be convicted on evidence alone."

She'd seen the papers within the manila envelope that he'd hidden in his car. She'd heard the lies; she'd picked up the pieces left behind by his broken promises. She'd been the one to live through the heartache, twice. A story behind it was the last thing Calleigh needed; the evidence spoke loud and clear for itself.

Eric had no idea what the fuel to that flame was, but from where he stood, he could easily feel the tension growing. He couldn't help but wonder just what had transpired between the two of them. All he knew was that it was terribly uncomfortable to watch; if not for the crime scene, Eric would've walked away. Productively he snapped a couple more photographs, before straightening up once more and clearing his throat. "Preemptive statement," he began, his voice a little louder than usual as he tried to get both of their attentions, "but I think the evidence here is plenty enough to tell what happened," he said, unaware that he'd sided with Calleigh on something other than the case. Jake narrowed his eyes, and Eric quickly explained. "The body was a classic hit-and-run victim. We've got skid marks, paint transfer. Plus, we've got that little thing up there," he said, pointing to the small camera on the nearest traffic pole. "Video evidence."

Jake scowled, unhappy to concede that Eric was right. "I'll get on the phone and see if I can get that tape," he muttered, nothing else to say as he pulled out his phone and quickly dialed.

As Jake turned his back, Eric trained his attention once more on the blonde just a short distance away from him. Without hesitation, he closed that distance, soft steps bringing him closer to her. He gave her a moment, almost hoping she would take the initiative, but knowing that she wouldn't. And as much as Eric hated to push, he hated even more for Calleigh to fight through anything alone. He wasn't sure what she was fighting, but there was something there. "Everything okay?" he asked softly, his dark eyes seeking out Calleigh's. "I get the feeling that was about more than the case," he prodded gently, more curious than he probably should've been.

"Everything's fine," Calleigh said simply, searching her kit for the tools she needed to swab for samples of blood.

She didn't elaborate, and Eric sighed deeply, knowing he shouldn't push but unable to stop himself. "Are you sure? Because that looked –"

"Let it go, Eric," Calleigh interrupted quietly, the warning in her voice unmistakable. "Please," she added in a whisper, her eyes decidedly downcast.

Nodding, Eric let out a slow breath, annoyed with himself. "I'm sorry," he apologized, never intending to upset her. Still, he knew she wasn't being truthful with him – she'd become so closed off after just a single question. It continued to sting, her lack of trust in him, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take of that before he had to make a choice of his own. There came a point where the possibility of something more just wasn't worth the constant pain.

If Eric continued holding on, the pain was inevitable. Something more, however, might or might not ever happen.

Calleigh pursed her lips, her emerald eyes hidden by her sunglasses. "It's okay," she murmured dismissively, forcing a tiny smile. "I've just been dealing with a lot lately; I guess I've got a bit of a short fuse right now," she added, her voice tainted by a derisive chuckle. "It helped a lot to take some time off, though."

Eric gave a hum of agreement. "You'd be surprised what a few days away can do," he commented, taking a step closer to her. "I didn't get to say it before, but welcome back," he murmured, a friendly, if not cautious smile on his lips. His hand twitched; the need to touch her was alive in his fingers, but Eric held back, sticking to the boundaries between them.

Just a few feet away, Jake's ears prickled as he closed his phone. Welcome back? Where had Calleigh gone? And why didn't he know? Wracking his brain, Jake realized that he hadn't seen Calleigh in the past week, but he'd assumed she was avoiding him. When Calleigh wanted to avoid someone, she could really _avoid _someone. Discreetly, he listened in on their conversation, pretending to be taking more notes on the scene, even though he'd exhausted every possible description.

"Thanks," Calleigh murmured in return, her eyes downward. "It's been a long time since I've just been _gone_, you know?" She shook her head with a chuckle, her words sounding vague to her own ears. "I needed to get out of Miami for awhile. Somewhere less cluttered; less crowded. It was just…nice," she ended with a shrug.

Eric grinned. "Must be nice to have all those spare vacation days laying around," he mused, wishing he had a few more of his own. Unfortunately, the majority of his had been used for a break that was anything but pleasurable. "I didn't even know you were going anywhere," he appended quickly, feeling the typical depression that accompanied thoughts of the shooting and the weeks following it.

"Yeah," Calleigh exhaled, peering over the top of her sunglasses at Eric, though only for a second, "it was kind of an impulsive thing," she admitted. She gave an embarrassed smile; even though she'd needed a vacation desperately, the fact that she'd taken off without thinking it through first was completely unlike her. But then again, she was appalled at much of her impulsive behavior in the past year, so one more addition to the list didn't really mean much. "I just decided that I needed to get out, and a few hours later I was packed and on the road."

To her surprise, Eric seemed a little more dismayed at the realization than she had been. Despite his grin, Calleigh could tell he'd been bothered by something, and though something within her told her not to go there, she couldn't help but press him about it. "What?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Eric hesitated; he hadn't meant to let his apprehension shine through. Calleigh wasn't the only one going through a rough year. He'd taken a bullet to the head, he'd had to relearn how to do his job, and he'd fallen for his best friend, only to watch her be swept away by an old flame. He understood more than anybody the need to take a step back, the need to breathe. But still, it bothered him, and Eric wasn't sure why – was it the fact that was acting differently, or that she just hadn't told him? He had a sneaking suspicion, though he refused to acknowledge that one. "I was just concerned, that's all," he muttered, the words sounding overbearing even to his ears. A flicker of confusion flashed over Calleigh's face, and Eric swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "It's just…it's not like you to just disappear," he elaborated. Unable to stop himself, he reached out to her, ever lightly brushing his fingertips against her elbow.

It killed him, but Jake, once again, just couldn't look away. Eric's touch was gentle along Calleigh's skin, just barely ghosting the smooth surface. The cocktail of emotions that bubbled up within him was so mixed that he couldn't discern any of the feelings separately. Anger, jealousy, irritation, heartache, depression…he felt it all.

And it only intensified as Calleigh slowly glanced to Eric, a small smile dancing at her lips. She looked happy; happier than a week's vacation alone could make her. Jake's stomach churned viciously; he was nauseous and he just wanted to get away. He just knew there was something deeper there, something that reached past the bonds of "just friendship," the same "just friendship" that Calleigh had reassured him about so long ago.

From Jake's perspective, it had looked like a smile of happiness, an unguarded, shy smile that revealed that she had exactly what she wanted. But truly, it was an anxious smile, a nervous smile. As soon as she'd felt Eric's touch on her skin, Calleigh had breathed in sharply, having not expected it. It startled her, yet calmed her at the same time, thus confusing her even more. She could hear the concern in his voice, and while she was grateful that he cared, she couldn't help feeling a slight annoyance at the fact that she wasn't allowed to make rash decisions, just because it wasn't like her. Turning her head away, Calleigh gave a nonchalant shrug. "I cleared it with Horatio beforehand," she replied as though it explained everything.

"So you're okay?" Eric asked again, inwardly cringing at his own perceived pushiness. "I just – I've noticed the past few weeks or months that you've not been yourself, that something's been, I don't know, off. I've just been…worried." He couldn't help it; it was just how he was.

"Eric," Calleigh said quietly, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. "I'm okay. _Really._" And there was the smile again, the same one that quickened the beat of Eric's heart while at the same time draining the strength, the will to beat from Jake's. "It was about time I took some time off, you know? I just needed to get away from…from a few things," she murmured, her eyes flickering discreetly to where Jake stood.

For the briefest of seconds, their eyes met. Shielded green met shielded brown, but even the most flawless of shields would not be enough to mask the emotion that lurked just beneath the surface in both of them. The electric current that passed between their gazes was undeniable. Within the deep brown of Jake's eyes, there was something, some emotion that made Calleigh desperately uncomfortable, overly anxious. Her body itched with the urge to squirm, to release the tension the discomfort created, but she refused; as always, she refused to let anyone see how bothered she was.

It was almost as though he could see right through her, his knowledge of her deepest secrets surpassing all present boundaries. It sent a shiver down her spine, a cold shiver, a startling chill. And yet, Calleigh couldn't look away. She was frozen, struggling to breathe as her gaze remained locked with his, the rest of the world beginning to spin around them. Her heart pounded within her chest, accenting the dull, hollow ache that she'd tried so desperately to ignore, a dull, hollow pain that quickly exploded into a piercing, stabbing heartache, leaving behind a cold emptiness, an emptiness that Calleigh was certain nothing would ever fill, because some people just weren't destined for the same happiness that others found in life.

And what _was_ it in his eyes? It's presence was clear as day, but Calleigh could not discern what it was, especially when the last thing she wanted to do was take a closer look. All she wanted was to look away; she needed to escape because the emotions present in Jake's eyes were bringing pain to her own heart.

Part of her wanted to forget about the crime scene and rush forward, launching herself into his arms, just as she'd seen so many times in her favorite guilty pleasure chick-flicks. The rest of her kept the steady mantra flowing through her mind, over and over again, reminding herself of everything negative that Jake had bestowed upon her. _Lies. Deception. Broken promises. Stinging tears. Sheer heartache. _None of it was anything Calleigh ever wanted to go through again, not for a third time with Jake.

Vaguely she heard her name, as though from a murky distance. But Jake's lips were not moving; he remained still, frozen in the same moment. Suddenly, a hand grasped her arm, and Calleigh gave a small gasp, finally breaking free from Jake's indecipherable, emotion-filled gaze.

"Calleigh?" Eric called gently, a surge of concern rising within him as Calleigh turned her head, her green eyes regarding him almost with surprise, as though she'd forgotten he was there. Her eyes had been on Jake; Eric knew that. He afforded a quick glance to the other man, but once more Jake was scribbling on his notepad, a pensive expression covering his face, wrinkling his brow. Quickly deciding that wasn't important, Eric turned his eyes back to Calleigh, cringing inwardly when she roughly pulled her arm away from his touch. "Cal?"

"I'm fine, Eric," Calleigh murmured, crossing her arms as she expertly concealed the tiniest of trembles in her voice. Oh, what she wouldn't give right now to be back beneath the Carolina sun, over five hundred miles away from here, from this. If only she'd known a year ago what kind of mess she'd be getting herself into with her hesitant indecision…

It was a possibility she didn't get the chance to linger on, though. Her body stiffened as she felt his footsteps draw unmistakably near to her, effectively locking her between Jake and Eric, with nowhere to run. For a moment, she could only hold her breath, resisting the urge to show _anything._ Sweaty palms were covered by latex gloves; panicked green eyes were once again covered by sunglasses, a secondary shield to the natural barrier she placed around herself.

But suddenly, Jake stopped, keeping a larger distance between them than he'd ever kept. He could feel the tension just as palpably as Calleigh could, and like her, he was also uncomfortable with it. Any kind of tension between himself and Calleigh just completely cut him to the core, leaving him raw, broken. It hurt so completely, being so close to her and unable to touch her, to hold her, kiss her. Through all the consequences that had come his way whilst undercover – bullets, drugs, lies, covering a murder – _this_ was the greatest punishment he'd ever received. The deepest physical pain he'd ever experienced couldn't compare to the pain of being without Calleigh.

And not only had he lost her _again,_ but she'd made no effort to make him believe that she'd ever thought what they had was real; that what they had was worth fighting for. As far as Jake could tell, he was the only one with the broken heart, while Calleigh had quickly and easily moved on.

Using a tactic he'd used so many times in the past, Jake detached himself from his emotions, putting a barrier around them and forcing himself to concentrate on the crime at hand. For the time being, he was still a homicide detective, and he couldn't investigate if he was too consumed by heartache. He cleared his throat, noticing that while Eric turned his attention to him, Calleigh didn't move. "I, uh, called about the tapes," Jake said, gesturing to the traffic cameras. "The guy said he'd get them for us; somebody just needs to go pick them up. Simple as that."

Eric nodded, biting at the inside of his cheek. Discreetly he regarded the distance between Jake and Calleigh, knowing that it was a bit too large for mere professionalism, even for Calleigh. Had something happened between them that he'd yet to hear about? Something that, he realized with a burst of pain, Calleigh couldn't or wouldn't tell him about? He didn't even know what it could be; he didn't even have proof that whatever happened was Jake's fault, but still Eric couldn't help the anger that infused itself into his blood. He just knew the way Calleigh had been acting recently was all because of Jake. "Well, why don't you go get them?" Eric suggested, his next words rolling off his tongue before he could stop them. "You know, make yourself useful?"

Behind the shield of her sunglasses, Calleigh squeezed her eyes shut, almost as though waiting for the blow. The distaste between Jake and Eric had never been a secret to her; in the beginning, it had even amused her, because the distaste came from the affections that both men held for _her._ And to have two attractive men competing for her affections had given her quite the ego boost.

Now, though, she didn't want any of it. She just wanted to do her job; to do her job free from pain and tension.

Jake narrowed his eyes, fixing Eric with a cold stare. He didn't like the protectiveness the other man had for Calleigh; even more, he didn't like that the other man felt he had to protect Calleigh from _him._ "Because," he began, his voice even, "it's a CSI's job to handle the evidence."

"Well, you're certainly in our lab often enough to be a CSI," Eric quipped, crossing his arms. "Besides, what else do you have to do? It's not like you can go ahead and arrest somebody."

Jake frowned. Honestly, the last thing he wanted was to pick a fight with Eric Delko, but who was he to back down from anything? It hadn't ever been anything he'd been able to do in the past. "I still have witnesses to interview," he shot back, affording a quick glance to Calleigh, who was now kneeling and investigating skid marks, seemingly ignoring the argument. "And I have to get to them before their memories have the chance to become skewed."

Eric smirked. "And yet, here you are, just standing around and doing nothing," he remarked quietly.

And that was the remark that set Jake's blood boiling. In his life, through all of his secrets, Jake had never simply stood around and done nothing. He couldn't afford to. Hands behind his back, he clenched his fists a couple of times, trying to calm himself down. "That's funny Delko," he murmured derisively, "especially since I'm doing more than you are." He'd been taking notes and surveying the scene; he'd made the phone call about the traffic cameras. And Eric had taken a few pictures before rushing over to Calleigh as soon as she'd arrived.

He wasn't sure what bothered him more; the fact that Delko was calling him lazy, or the fact that Delko had dropped everything for Calleigh when Jake had been unable to do so.

Eric straightened up, a challenging gleam in his dark eyes. "Do you really wanna take it there?" he asked quietly, his tone just daring Jake to argue. Sure, he'd made some mistakes after the shooting, but Eric had done everything that his job required him to do. And he'd done much of it two and three times, just to make sure he was getting it right. He knew he was working harder than many of the people he worked with, because he _had_ to work that hard in order to get back to where he'd been before. So many times he'd sacrificed sleep just to keep working, hoping to exceed everyone's expectations, not to mention his own. He'd never worked harder in his life than he had in the past year and a half, and he resented the implication that he was doing nothing at all. "Not once this year have I let something go by me because I didn't want to spend the time dealing with it, and not once have I walked away because something was too complicated." He paused, staring coldly at Jake as he took a step closer. A few feet away, Calleigh tensed, sensing that things were about to deteriorate quite quickly. "And not once have I tried to take a shortcut because I thought I could get away with it."

Despite his reluctance to continue doing work that was connected to the undercover life, Jake had always taken pride in the way he'd done his job; at being the best at what he did. But Delko's words took on a greater and deeper meaning, despite the fact that the other man didn't know what had taken place between himself and Calleigh. Jake felt as though he were being accused of walking away from Calleigh because he didn't want to expend the effort to be with her; because he didn't care for her.

From Calleigh, the accusation had stabbed him to the core. But from Delko, the words made Jake shake with deadly anger. "You don't know the whole story," he whispered dangerously. "Don't talk about what you don't understand."

Jake's words sent an inexplicable chill through Calleigh's body, and at that point, she'd heard all she could take. Abruptly she stood and ripped her gloves off, the sudden sound and movement startling both men. "Forget it," she said sternly, glaring at a spot midway between both men, a way of showing her irritation, but not having to look at either of them. "_I'll_ go get the tapes. _I'll_ take them back to the lab."

_And while I'm at it, _she thought, _I'll see about switching cases. _

"Calleigh," Eric began, watching as she closed her kit and cleaned up the rest of her things. "You don't –"

"I want to," she said simply, affording the quickest of glances to the both of them, finding herself surprised to see identical remorse in both sets of dark eyes. Eric she knew felt bad about upsetting her, but Jake? He hadn't seemed to care all the other times he'd hurt her, so why now? Calleigh couldn't figure it out, and she refused to allow herself to linger on it. With a deep breath, she gathered her things and began to walk, only dismayed for a moment that her path to exit took her between both men.

Her steps faltered only slightly, only as she brushed by Jake and found herself unprepared for the faint scent of his cologne that reached her nose. Resisting the dizzying sensation that threatened to overtake her, Calleigh lifted her head and forced herself to continue on, concentrating on her eagerness to get away, back to the easy solitude of the lab.

Over a year ago, when this situation had first began, if Calleigh had known that things would end up like this, she would've gone so far as to transfer to nights to avoid it. Work at night, sleep during the day, and have no time in which to deal with this triangle which she'd somehow gotten stuck in. The more she thought about it, the more appealing the idea seemed to Calleigh, but unfortunately, it was too late now.

The damage had already been done.

Calleigh's mind drifted to a conversation she'd had with Natalia long before either Jake or Eric had made their intentions clear; back when everything was simple. Back then, Calleigh had regarded the remark in a playful, joking light. But now, Calleigh found herself agreeing wholeheartedly.

Natalia had been right. This just wasn't worth it.


	32. Not Enough

**_Chapter Thirty-Two_**  
_**Not Enough**  
-**  
**_

Break time.

The blessed twenty minutes of the afternoon that Jake had for himself, twenty minutes of the day that he didn't have to think about death, murder, homicide. About uncooperative suspects, cases quickly going cold, leads with dead ends. The twenty minutes away from all that had always helped pull Jake through the seemingly endless day.

It had once been his favorite part of the work day, other than the forty-minute longer break he got for lunch. A sad smile flitted across his lips as he recalled what break time had once meant to him. Phone calls, moments in the front seat of his car on the way to find some better coffee than what the workplace had to offer, stolen kisses on the firing range when she'd been too swamped (or too stubborn) to take a break from work…

Jake's heart clenched as his mind was filled with the vivid images. It _still_ hurt to be without her; it would always hurt. Since the day his entire world of deeply tangled lies and half-truths had come crashing down around him, his breaks had been filled with the same morose depression that colored all twenty-four hours of every single one of his days. And today was no exception.

The brightest sunlight poured in from the windows that lined nearly every inch of wall-space, its cheery warmth a mocking jeer to Jake's dreary, distant mood. He hadn't bothered to leave work for his break today; there was nowhere he could go where the pain wouldn't follow him, so why bother? And besides, today he had a task to finish.

Or rather, a task to begin, as the case may be. He was ten minutes into his break, and still he hadn't found the strength or the courage to fully begin. In his life, he'd been faced with drugs, with threats, with blackmail, and most of it he'd taken in stride – most, but not all. But that wasn't the point. The point was that this task, seemingly simple when he'd thought of it earlier, had proven to be the most difficult task he'd ever had set before him.

It was a letter. A simple, single letter.

All he had to do was put the truth to the paper, seal it, and make sure Calleigh got it before he went under. Simple enough, right?

If only.

Jake gave a deep sigh, leaning forward slightly as he raked his tired fingers through his already unruly hair. This time around, truth meant emotions. If he was to reveal any of the truth to her, Jake would have to reveal it all. No sugarcoating, no half-truths, no lies of omission.

Like so many times before, it was all or nothing. And Jake wanted so, so badly to give her his all, his everything. After all, she'd always deserved the truth. Calleigh had never deserved the lies, the deceit, the pain – all of which Jake would never be able to forgive himself for.

He didn't deserve forgiveness. But Calleigh…she did deserve the truth. And Jake _knew_ that; he knew it with every part of his heart and soul. So why could he not just lower the pen to paper, and let his heart spill forth through the deep blue ink?

As soon as the question posed itself, the answer quickly followed. Jake knew exactly why he couldn't write. He was getting ready to leave in just a few days; ready to return to the undercover life that had torn their relationship apart in the first place. He had no guarantee that Calleigh would even see his words before he had to go; for all he knew, she wouldn't care one way or the other anyway.

One last time, he was putting his heart on the line, not even knowing if Calleigh would believe anything he said. And there was a chance that Jake would never, ever know her response. Once the words were on paper, it would be as though his fate were sealed; instead of seeing them through, that could very well be the end.

It would be almost as though he were saying his final goodbye.

And there in a nutshell was the very reason why Jake could not bring himself to write more than his eight favorite letters – seven, technically, since Calleigh had two _l_'s in her name – at the top of the page. And so, for minutes that dragged on and on, Jake merely stared, pen in hand, mind wandering.

It stared ruthlessly back at him, that sheet of paper. The stark, empty whiteness burned his eyes, almost as though the paper itself were judging him for his choices, for his reasons. The scrawl of Calleigh's name at the top was barely legible, but then again, Jake's handwriting had always been just another of his endlessly imperfect traits, another one which he would never escape.

Everything he wanted to tell her stood out so clearly in his mind. The truth, his reasons, the feelings he'd carried for her for over a decade. And more than anything, he could see the three words that best described those feelings.

So why couldn't he just write?

The answer to that question was the same as the answer to his other question: why couldn't he just _tell_ her?

He wasn't good at this. He felt; he had feelings. But when it came to expressing those feelings…it was a vast, empty wasteland for Jake. Influenced by emotion, everything he had to say came out wrong. If anger or depression drove him, he only managed to ruin everything. It was the story of his life.

It was why he had clung so desperately to the emotional freedom that the undercover life had granted him. In that life, the only feeling that coursed through him was the blessed surge of adrenaline. Some days, he ran _completely_ on adrenaline. No worries, no pain, no consequences. Just the incessant need to get the task done.

Now, he was mere days away from being thrust right back into that life, but no longer did Jake possess the ability to shut down his emotions. He'd let things get too far out of hand this time, and he couldn't just shut down the heartbreak. Until it had time to fade completely, Jake would carry it everywhere he went.

And he didn't foresee that heartbreak fading away at all anytime soon.

Tapping his pen on the edge of his desk, Jake searched desperately for the strength to transfer the thoughts in his mind to the paper before him. If nothing else, it would help him arrange his thoughts. He couldn't make sense of the thoughts in his head, so clouded with emotion were they. He wasn't used to dealing with both at the same time.

He stared with all his might at the paper, wishing he could convey those thoughts without using the pen in his hand. It just wasn't something he could make himself do, not right now. But Jake knew he had to. His heart was plagued by far too much to just leave Calleigh without leaving her something, anything.

She wouldn't speak to him, so leaving his words on paper was the only thing he could do.

Apparently, it was also something he _couldn't_ do, if the nearly blank sheet of paper was any indication. What could he say to her that would make any difference at all?

He'd lied to her so many times, too many times. Did his words even have any credit with her anymore, even if they were the sole truths he'd carried with him deep inside for so many years? Had he ruined everything so badly that anything he did now was another worthless hit in a losing battle?

Elbows on the desk, Jake buried his face in his hands, his fingers rubbing at his tired eyes. He _had_ to do this; if he did nothing else for her, she needed to know. With a deep breath, Jake resolutely lifted his eyes once more, gripping his pen with a new intensity. Maybe he couldn't find the words for a beautifully written, articulate letter, but then again, expression via his words had never been his strong suit.

With a shadow of pain looming over him, he lowered his pen once more to the paper. Maybe for now he just needed to write what he felt, the truth. Later, when he had more time, he could elaborate. For now, he let his heart guide the pen, his eyes merely watching as letters and then words appeared before him.

_I'm sorry._

His hand shook as the words etched themselves onto the paper. The words looked as though a kindergartener had written them; they were so scribbled. But Jake couldn't keep his hand still.

But he couldn't stop, either. The two words were the farthest he'd gotten yet, and as soon as he'd written them, he'd opened a dam which he could not reclose. Barely readable were they, for his hand was shaking just that badly, but Jake made no effort to steady his grip on the pen.

After all, maybe it was best if Calleigh couldn't read his words.

_I never wanted to hurt you._

Oxygen escaped him. He breathed heavily, searching for the necessary air; searching, and unable to take hold. It was the story of his life; in the end, everything he cared about would always slip through his fingers because of his silly, stupid mistakes.

_You always meant more to me than the job. Always. Everything I did was always for you._

His eyesight blurred. Blinking rapidly did nothing but drop a curtain of vertigo over his head, leaving him dizzy and more unsteady than he'd been before. The crux of his emotions and thoughts was growing ever near, and the closer he drew to those fateful words, the more physically draining his reaction became.

_I miss you._

His heart pounded erratically. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead; it was taking more out of him than he'd thought to write the words. They were words Jake meant with all his heart, but they were so foreign to him.

His reaction – shaking hands, cold sweat, pounding heart, shallow breathing – it was fear.

Jake was afraid.

But of what? The words themselves? The presence of absolute truth in a life that had dwelled so deeply in lies? Or…was it the anticipation of Calleigh's reaction to the words that left him with a cold knot in his stomach and ice water coursing through his veins with every pump of his heart?

Would she take them in slowly, noticing every tortured scrawl, every stroke of pain that had gone into the writing? Or would she close her heart once more, shoving him out and leaving him cold and alone as she ripped the page into tiny shreds, determined to erase the existence of every word, every word which she believed to be more of the same lies?

Would she believe him?

Jake had no idea how he managed to scrawl the last words onto that paper. They were the hardest of all to write. His eyes were blurred, he couldn't breathe, and his hand shook so badly that his pen tore a tiny hole in the paper. But somehow he scribbled them out, the words he'd only been able to tell her in person after she'd retreated into the realm of dreams.

_I love you._

It was a raw collection of thoughts, a skeleton backbone of the full apology he truly needed to give her. The more he stared at them, the more they seemed to swim before his eyes. And the more they swam before his eyes, the more he resented the words. On paper, they weren't the same. Paper made a mockery of the words etched so deeply upon his heart. Anybody could write those words; on paper, they didn't mean a thing.

And that wasn't enough, not when even his spoken words weren't enough for Calleigh.

Jake bit at his lip hard enough to draw blood, but at the moment, he didn't care. Physical pain was far preferable to the emotional emptiness that filled his entire being.

How could he leave her these words, and then leave her yet again? How could he possibly pour the deepest truths of his heart out to her, and then go on and do what he'd done since the beginning? It was a contradiction of the worst kind, and if Calleigh believed him at all, it would only be momentary. She would never forgive him for making another promise to her right before going under.

Once more the panic gripped him. He couldn't do this.

It wasn't enough. The words on the paper before him weren't enough. And maybe…maybe he wasn't enough.

Maybe he'd never be enough.

_She deserves more than you._

With a low growl of frustration, Jake abruptly crumpled the single sheet of paper, tossing it angrily into the wastebasket beneath his desk; the wastebasket which already held evidence of his failure. He'd tried to put his reasons and feelings on paper three times already, and three times he had already failed.

Failure. By now, he should be used to it. After all, he was never going to amount to anything more than that.

Maybe it wasn't _completely_ true, but it still cast a dark cloud over his future, over the task that was drawing nearer and nearer. At this point, there was no way out, and even if he did find a way out, why would it matter? He had nothing left.

Nothing but a heart that had been crushed and stabbed and ripped to pieces so that it barely even resembled a heart anymore.

**..**

The pain of his most recent failure looming over him, Jake forced himself to get back to work. Unfortunately, getting back to work meant answering his pages; it meant making his way to the lab. Not to see Calleigh, who, to Jake's immense disappointment, had removed herself from the case, though after that morning, he really couldn't blame her.

As he stopped outside of one of the glass-walled labs, Jake let out a breath, wishing he could pull himself from the case too. The page he'd received had come from the man on the other side of the glass, the last man he ever really wanted to work with again.

He wasn't getting anything done by standing outside, so Jake forced himself to push away his irritation as he shrugged on a lab coat, before he pushed his way into the lab. "You paged?" he asked simply.

Eric looked up, and while he afforded a small, polite smile, his eyes remained cold. "Yeah, I did. About time you answered it."

Jake bristled at the accusation, though, unlike that morning, he possessed not the energy to refute it. "I was on my break," he replied simply, voice free of venom. "It didn't sound urgent, so I thought it could wait a few minutes."

Eric blinked, somewhat surprised at the flatness of Jake's voice. "Well, you're lucky it could," he replied, organizing the evidence before him. Jake chose not to reply, and Eric shifted on his feet, not immune to the tension that continued to exist between them. Uncomfortable, he opened the file, showing Jake what they'd found up to this point. "We got the video from the traffic cameras," Eric said, watching Jake with a curious look in his eyes. "We've got a perfect viewpoint on the impact itself; it also appears that the driver sped up just as they were about to hit our victim."

Jake nodded slowly, his mind only barely processing any of this information. To be honest, he didn't care. He was too far lost in his own emotions to care about solving crimes. "So it wasn't an accident," he mused.

Eric stared at him. "Yeah, we figured that this morning," he reminded him. "The fact that he left the scene kind of gave that away." This was getting stranger by the moment. The man beside him right now was not the same Jake Berkeley who had been at the scene this morning. Now, Eric had no desire to examine him closely or anything, but even he couldn't help but wonder what had happened between now and then. Jake seemed as if he'd all but deflated since then. Clearing his throat, Eric continued, though his mind continued to work the puzzle before him. "We got a clear plate number, but it's not much help since the car was reported stolen four days ago. Patrol is out looking, and we've got the video out to other departments, so now there's not much we can do.

"I'll interview the actual owner though," Jake suggested, scrawling on his notepad the name Eric had written on the file. "Make sure all the bases are covered…" Without another look to Eric, Jake turned his back, preparing to leave. He didn't want to spend more time here than he had to. "Page me if you get anything else."

He'd barely taken three steps before he was stopped once more in his tracks. "Hey…Jake?"

The question was hesitant, and Jake probably could've ignored him and walked away. But there was something that had him turning around, his eyes studying Eric with an appraising look. "What?"

Eric again shifted on his feet as the question he'd been nursing since the morning – well, for weeks, actually – decided it would no longer be ignored. He knew it was none of his business, but his curiosity was overwhelming. And besides, if Jake didn't want to reveal anything, he didn't have to. Eric had nothing to lose by asking. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked slowly, testing the waters before diving straight in. "A personal question, I mean."

Jake merely watched the other man for a moment, sizing him up. There was only one reason why Eric Delko would ask a personal question – it was something that had to do with Calleigh. Jake knew he should simply say no and walk away; he knew that this would only result in reopened wounds. But, as always when something came up involving Calleigh, Jake was powerless to move. "Go ahead," he said emotionlessly, a challenging glint in his dark eyes.

Eric swallowed, faltering only slightly under the other man's gaze. Opening his mouth, Eric forced out that question that had plagued him so dearly. "Are things okay…with you and Calleigh?"

He'd known the question was coming, but Jake couldn't stop the cold glare he gave Eric – couldn't stop it, and didn't particularly want to, either. "That's not really any of your business," he replied quietly, coldly.

"I know," Eric replied quickly, dropping his gaze. He shifted, biting at the inside of his cheek. "It's just that…"

Jake huffed, feeling as though Eric was purposely wasting his time. He was absolutely dying to get out of there. "Spit it out, Delko."

Eric shrugged. "I've just…I've noticed that Calleigh hasn't been acting herself lately." He glanced up quickly, but couldn't make himself hold Jake's eyes. "She's my friend, and uh, I've just been worried about her, that's all."

Jake doubted that was all; he'd always doubted it was just friendship that the other man held for Calleigh, even after Calleigh's own assurances of that fact. He gave a deep sigh, choosing to put the wonderings of the other man out of their misery. After all, telling the truth had been what he'd struggled with during his break. Maybe this could be considered practice for telling Calleigh the truth.

He gave a deep sigh, directing his eyes to the floor. "Calleigh and I…we, uh," Jake paused, closing his eyes for a moment as a fresh rush of pain threatened to swallow him whole. "We broke up."

Eric stared. "What?" The news came as a complete surprise to him, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. On the one hand, Calleigh was no longer with Jake…but on the other hand, she hadn't told him about it. Had she not wanted to confide in him? She'd always considered him her best friend; he'd trusted her with nearly everything in his life. This was huge, and Eric found himself kind of stung that he was finding it out not from Calleigh, but from Jake.

"Yeah," Jake murmured. "We just…it was…" he struggled, finding himself drowning in the pain, feeling as though his heart were once again being ripped from his chest. By now, he wasn't sure why it still hurt so bad; it wasn't like he had that much heart left to break. "I made some mistakes," he managed finally, a hand instinctively reaching for the ever-present medallion he wore, only to find that it wasn't there. Another thing that rendered him unworthy of human relationships; he had no idea where he'd lost it, but the very fact that he _had _lost it, given its significance, was not lost on him. "I made some choices that I wish I could take back."

Eric was no scholar at reading people. The only person he felt he had a decent knowledge of was Calleigh, and it was by mere chance that he sometimes had an inkling of what she was feeling at any given time. But even he could tell that Jake wasn't taking this in stride. He wasn't optimistic; he wasn't parading around, thinking that any other woman would kill to be with him.

No, Jake seemed to be genuinely torn up over this, over Calleigh. As Eric studied him now, Jake looked nothing less than utterly heartbroken.

A similar situation flashed before his eyes – the sense of surprise he'd felt the night that Calleigh and Jake had been in that wreck. It had been so long ago, but to Eric it still felt like the very recent past.

Calleigh's wellbeing had been at the forefront of his mind, and Eric had pushed everything else away. But now, it was like he was right back there again.

He'd been truly surprised at the amount of genuine concern in Jake's eyes and voice when he'd told the other man that Calleigh needed to go to the ER. It had been the first time that Eric had really gotten the impression that Jake's feelings for Calleigh were _real._

And now, he was getting that same impression, all over again.

But he had not the time to linger on it, for the moment was quickly lost. Just as Calleigh was so skilled at doing, Jake had built a wall around himself, around his tormented emotions. The pain was still visible in his eyes, though, and Jake knew it. When it came to Calleigh, he'd never been able to hide his feelings completely. "Look," he said, eyes glancing to the door as though searching for escape. "I'm going to go interview the owner," he said quietly, already heading away from Eric. "I'll let you know if anything feels suspicious."

He'd thought he was home free, but as soon as Jake's hand was on the door, Eric spoke once more from behind him. His words were quiet, muffled perhaps by the tension that thickened the air, the fiery, suffocating tension that always separated both men as far as Calleigh was concerned. But the words were there, nonetheless, and they rang in Jake's ears, echoing over and over.

"I'm sorry, man."

The words angered him, but instead of acknowledging them, Jake simply yanked at the door and forced himself through it, letting it slam behind him. Just barely he resisted the urge to slam his fist against the nearest wall, but somehow he managed to breathe deeply and repress it. His control had already done its share of eluding him in private; he couldn't let the rest of the world watch him fall apart, not right before he was supposed to go undercover.

Eric's words continued to echo in his ears, and Jake allowed himself one more glare at the other man through the glass walls that separated them. He allowed himself only one reaction to those words that had angered him so much; he allowed himself only three muttered words of his own as he walked away.

"No, you're not."

And the farther he walked, the more his conversation with Eric faded away from his mind, the void quickly filled once more by thoughts of Calleigh. Jake's mind returned once more to the words he'd shoved into the wastebasket beneath his desk, the truths he owed to Calleigh, and very quickly his echoing steps of anger faded into the solemn steps of heartbreak once more.


	33. Goodbye

**_Chapter Thirty-Three_**  
_**Goodbye**  
-**  
**_

It was a stark contrast to the rest of the lab with its perpetual, blindingly sunny glow, but the dimness of the locker room made no difference to Jake. Feebly, the dying lights overhead cast a low, flickering glow, low enough for the shadows to come out and successfully play with his mind. The lack of light in the tiny, secluded room was the perfect companion to Jake's rapidly declining mood. The day he'd been dreading had finally arrived; the last day that he would be Jake Berkeley. Tonight, he would be gone.

It was that truth which gave him the courage he'd needed to do what he knew he had to do. In the quiet solitude of the locker room, he pulled a small, slightly crinkled envelope from the inside of his suit jacket. His hands shook visibly as he held it up to his eyes, knowing that within its paper confines rested the very last shattered remnants of his heart.

Just the night before, Jake had finally forced himself to do away with his fears, with his apprehensions. It was, after all, his last chance.

And there was no guarantee that he would ever get another one. This was it.

Unless he played his cards correctly the very first time, the probability that he would make it out of this assignment alive was very slim. The true danger had finally sunk into him, but unlike years before, Jake wasn't driven by adrenaline this time. No, this time he wanted to run in the opposite direction as fast as he possibly could; this time, he was driven by nothing more than absolute fear.

And so a sleepless night he had spent just the night before, staring at numbers on a clock – the clock on the bedside table beside the bed that felt so far from being his own. It was nothing new to him, these sleepless nights, but Jake wasn't sure how long he could do that once he went under. He was adept at running on two hours of sleep; not so much on zero hours of sleep.

He'd tossed and turned for hours before finally giving up and getting up, making his way to the living room. As he turned on the lights, his eyes had immediately fallen on the scattered papers and pens that cluttered the table. He'd tried and tried countless times to put his heart into words, but he'd failed at that and decided to go to bed.

Now he'd failed at sleeping, leaving him right back at square one.

It was no easier this time around than it had been any of the times before. But somehow, driven by the knowledge that the sand was quickly running out of his hourglass, Jake had managed to let go. He'd managed to let go of the fear that held him back, and as the sky slowly lightened outside, he finally found himself satisfied with the words on the paper before him.

Still, he knew they weren't enough.

But they were all he had, and they would have to do.

The events still haunting his thoughts, Jake forced himself across the room with heavy steps, each one echoing hollowly on the cold tile below as he made his way toward his destination, the locker marked so clearly with the last name that coupled the first name he'd written on the front of the envelope. He knew it wasn't enough just to drop the letter in her locker, but Jake knew there was no way he could possibly give it to her in person. Maybe it was cowardly of him, but he knew that there was absolutely no way he could stand and watch as her emerald gaze drank in the words that'd come from the deepest regions of his heart.

Anything else, he could face. Drugs forced into his veins, guns held to his head, knives plunged through his skin, the crack of bones as fists connected with jaws and noses…bring it on. He'd faced nearly all of it before and came out alive.

But watching Calleigh's eyes fill with cold rejection as she read his words? That would _kill_ him.

Shaking the very thought from his mind as completely as he could, Jake stood with a quiet reverence in front of her locker. His fingers traced ever slowly over the letters of her last name, almost as though committing each letter deep to memory.

It brought to his mind a memory from a different time, a different place, yet with a similar row of lockers as a witness. In front of a similar row of lockers in a different state, they'd lobbed playful insults at each other, compared scores on exams (with Jake's always being the higher of the two, of course), and even shared kisses.

But that was back in the academy. Now, as soon as Jake slipped his letter through one of the small vents on the door, the thought of lockers would startle up a vastly different emotion.

His mind registered the odd parallel, and Jake couldn't for the life of him figure out why a row of lockers would have such an important part in both the end of their relationship as well as the evolution of it.

**..**

_Another day of practical training done, Jake opened his locker with a smug smile, exceptionally pleased that once again he'd bested everyone in his class. Although, to be honest, the ease with which he bested them was getting a bit old. Sometimes he wished there was a bit of competition, whether it be in practical training, or even back in the classroom. As it was, the only person that even came close to competing with him was easily worlds away better than the rest of their classmates. _

_But then again, the way it pissed her off so badly to lose to him more than made up for the utter lack of skill in anyone else. _

_She stood beside him, her own locker open as she utilized the small mirror on the inside of the door. Jake found his gaze captured by her as he watched her pull a brush through her gorgeous blonde locks, leaving them shiny and straight as they cascaded down her back. Satisfied with that, she reached a hand into the small bag sitting just inside her locker, pulling out a powder compact, a tube of mascara, and her favorite lipstick – at least Jake assumed it to be her favorite; it was the color that adorned her perfect lips each day._

_Not that Jake _knew_ what kind of makeup she wore each day. He wasn't quite _that_ smitten with her…was he?_

_Shaking away the thought, Jake couldn't help but watch as she gently touched up her makeup, momentarily taken by just how stunning she actually looked. As Calleigh leaned closer to her mirror, her eyes flickered upward just for a moment, and as a small smile tugged at her lips, Jake knew she'd caught him watching her._

_He cleared his throat and glanced back to his own locker for a moment, pretending to rummage around in the cluttered inside of it before he spoke, trying to play down the fact that he'd been so fascinated by her. "Hot date tonight?" he quipped, a teasing grin on his lips. Looking back to her, he allowed his dark eyes to study her intently, leaving no doubt as to his interest in her. _

_Calleigh merely laughed, playfully rolling her sparkling eyes. "Oh, I wish," she chuckled, smiling as she carefully applied mascara to her lashes. _

_Jake smirked. "Your wish can be my command, you know," he replied wittily, quirking a knowing brow as he spoke._

_From anyone else, it might've been a sleazy remark, but there was just something about Jake Berkeley that Calleigh couldn't dismiss. He ruffled her feathers practically every day, and it annoyed her and amused her all at the same time. In the past few days, she'd found herself more determined to actually beat him at something than she was to make it out of the academy, but then again, beating him would probably assure that she graduated at the top, considering just how damn good Jake was. _

_There was still a huge chunk of time left before they made it out, though, so maybe there was hope for her yet. For now, she smirked at Jake's cocky remark, finding herself not disgusted by it, but spurred on. "I thought I said I wished for a _hot_ date," she retorted sweetly, batting her newly mascara-coated lashes. _

_Narrowing his eyes, Jake gave a playfully annoyed huff. "Cute."_

_"At least one of us is," Calleigh shot back effortlessly, tilting her head slightly as she examined her finished touch-up. She grinned, satisfied with the results. "For your information," she began, though deep in her mind she had no idea why she felt the need to tell him this, "I'm having dinner with a friend who's in town for the weekend."_

_"Boyfriend?" Jake pressed, and though casually he leaned against the lockers, inside he was falling victim to the unfamiliar pangs of jealousy. _

_Calleigh merely shrugged. "Maybe," she replied, a definite lilt to her voice. "Why does it matter to you, hmm?" _

_Jake had a ready retort on his tongue, but it disappeared almost immediately as Calleigh slowly retrieved her purse, closed her locker, and turned to face him with a knowing glint in her eyes. "It doesn't," he lied, holding her eyes as best he could. "Just curious, that's all."_

_"Don't you know that saying?" Calleigh asked with a wink. "Curiosity killed the cat."_

_"Lucky for me, I'm not a cat," Jake retorted, grinning smugly._

_"Too bad," Calleigh replied, a faux frown on her lips. "I love cats." Pausing, she glanced down at her watch before giving Jake a teasing grin. "And as much as I'd love to continue this conversation, I have to go." She winked. "We've got reservations, after all." Not exactly true, but she loved playing with Jake's mind as much as he loved playing with hers._

_It was all Jake could do to keep from rolling his eyes. Something was welling up inside of him, something that didn't like the idea of Calleigh with somebody else. "Then you'd better go meet your _friend_," he replied, unnecessary emphasis on the last word._

_To his dismay, she didn't leave just yet. "His name's Evan," Calleigh supplied cheerfully, willing herself not to laugh as she purposely chose not to reveal the fact that Evan was not her boyfriend, but her little brother who was in town to celebrate his getting in to graduate school with his only non-dysfunctional family member. Slipping her purse onto her shoulder, Calleigh flashed Jake a bright smile and a teasing wink as she turned away from him. "And he's staying with me for the weekend," she added, just for spite._

_Jake couldn't help but bite into his lip as she walked away, now unable to ignore the jealousy that bubbled within him. He wanted her, and badly. Calleigh had a charm about her, a charm so strong that if Jake wasn't careful, he was going to fall hard for it._

_With a hand on the door, Calleigh glanced back to Jake, taking in the visibly bothered expression on his face. As she opened the door, she couldn't help but smile to herself._

_For once, she'd gotten the last word. _

_And it did feel good to finally beat him at something._

_Although, if Jake ever did find out that Evan was her little brother and not her boyfriend, Calleigh knew she'd never hear the end of it._

**_.._**

The memory very nearly brought a small smile to Jake's lips, but as he gripped the envelope tightly in his hands, any thought of smiling seeped quickly from his mind. He held it in both hands, his dark eyes straying not from the scrawl of her name on the front. Once he slipped that letter into her locker, that would be it. It would be done. The proverbial ball would be in her court; it was her choice and hers alone whether or not she would open that envelope.

And even if she did, she might not open it until long after Jake had gone.

He gave a deep sigh, no confidence at all present in his posture. He had nothing to be confident about; everything in his life was going wrong. Who was to say that this one action would make things better?

There were so many reasons why Jake should just stick the letter back into his pocket, take it home, and shred it.

But Jake had come this far. To turn away now would mean all his desperate searching for all the words for his feelings would've been all for naught. It might _still_ be all for naught, but at least if he took the last step, he could say he'd done all he could.

With a deep breath, Jake lifted the letter resolutely to one of the vents on the locker door, and with little hesitation, he slid it through, hearing it dully hit the bottom of the locker. And that was it, he realized, leaning forward slightly. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against the cool metal, feeling his heart pounding against his chest.

He couldn't believe he'd actually slipped that letter into her locker.

But he was glad he'd done it before the wave of panic overtook him, as it had begun to do now. Jake felt suddenly dizzy; the entire room spun around him, even with his eyes closed. Along with his pounding heart, he could feel the sweat forming at his brow, and just barely could he catch his breath. It was panic, pure and simple.

But panic over what, exactly? Because of what he'd just done?

Or was he already beginning to panic because of the one thing he still had to do?

**..**

He stood outside her lab for the longest time, discovering that facing her took more courage than simply placing the letter in her locker had required. His sense of panic had faded only slightly; visibly he'd composed himself. Mentally…not so much. He wasn't ready for this; Jake had a feeling this was something he would never be ready for.

After all the hesitation he could handle, Jake took a deep breath and pushed through the door, knowing that was the critical step. While he remained outside, he could still run. But once he stepped inside; once he allowed her to see him, there would be no turning back.

His abrupt entrance startled her; she didn't jump, but Jake could easily read the shock that registered in her eyes. It was shock that was quickly replaced with a glare of cold disdain, and Jake had to avert his eyes, unable to hold her gaze. It took every last reserve of his strength to walk toward her, and he could feel the tension growing between them with every step; he could almost feel the way she stiffened, the way she forced her concentration back to studying the bullets in the scope in front of her.

Silently, he allowed himself to watch her for as long as she kept her eyes hidden by the scope. It might be the last time he ever saw her, after all. What he wouldn't give to leave her on much better terms…

What he wouldn't give to not have to leave her at all.

Jake didn't – couldn't – take the initiative here. He felt his words had been all exhausted; he wasn't sure what he had left to say to her. Feeling his intent gaze on her, Calleigh quickly grew uncomfortable, using all the restraint in her body to keep from squirming. He'd yet to open his mouth, so why was he here?

Sticking to the small comfort that the lab provided her, Calleigh forced herself to keep her breathing even as her eyes examined striations in the bullet in the scope. "I don't have anything on that bullet for you yet. I've been swamped today, and I've still got about three cases from yesterday to get to before I get to today…"

Jake shook his head – of course she would think he was here for work. In her mind, he had no other reason to want to talk to her. Sighing deeply, he took another step closer to her, discreetly laying a hand on her table for support. "That's – that's not what I'm here for," he said, his own voice sounding foreign to him. He cleared his throat, though it did nothing to relieve the burning scratchiness that seared his throat with every word.

Her shoulders stiffened slightly, but otherwise she gave no indication that his words bothered her. "Okay…then why are you here?" she asked, her voice still professional.

What else could Jake do? He couldn't stall much longer; he was literally running out of time. And she'd asked the question; he couldn't very well leave her without an answer. "I, uh," he hesitated, trying to swallow the bitter cocktail of fear and anguish from which he couldn't escape. With a deep breath, he tried again. "I just came by to let you know…" he trailed off, letting go of the table in favor of anxiously shoving his hands in his pockets. This was more difficult than he'd prepared himself for; he couldn't even look at her. "I'm leaving tomorrow," he finally blurted, having to force each of the words to leave his lips. "To go on assignment."

The words took her by storm; it had been the one thing she'd dreaded incessantly since she'd stumbled upon those papers of his. Closing her eyes briefly, Calleigh straightened, her hands on the table in front of her for support. She didn't want to think about it; she'd _never_ wanted to think about it. And now, here Jake was, telling her the last thing she'd wanted to hear.

There was just no way she could win, past or present. Whether she knew or didn't know, it made no difference. Knowing that Jake was gone, she'd worried. Not knowing where he was or when – if - he was coming home; she'd worried. Neither situation was better than the other, and now she was about to be thrust right back into the middle of it again.

With a sigh, she finally turned her eyes to him, allowing her gaze to bore through him, hoping it projected all of the anger that he'd caused her, but none of the pain. She had no problem being mad; it was being hurt that she couldn't handle.

Licking her parched lips, she searched for the words to accurately describe what she was feeling, without of course giving away too much. "I wish you hadn't told me that," Calleigh replied quietly, almost inaudibly.

The words were like the sharpest of knives, each syllable plunging deep into his heart. _She doesn't care._ His eyes concentrated too hard on the floor below, so hard that the tiles began to swirl together, clouding his vision, making him dizzy. He could tell Calleigh was waiting for something, but Jake didn't know what to say to her. He didn't know what she wanted to hear.

Head still spinning, Jake forced himself to lift his eyes to her. "I know you're still mad," he said, half expecting a derisive snort from Calleigh, relieved when none came. It was the understatement of the year, that one, little three-lettered word, and inwardly he couldn't help but cringe as the word left his lips. "I know the last thing you want to do right now is talk to me."

Calleigh lifted an eyebrow, her eyes cold as steel. It took all the strength to hold that expression, to hide the fact that this simple encounter was very nearly killing her. "And yet you're here anyway," she observed flatly, giving absolutely nothing away. Jake made no effort to reply, and after several moments of painful, awkward silence, Calleigh shook her head, lifting her hands in frustration. "Look, Jake," she said, "I've got a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time to do it. So what do you want?"

_I want you._

Opening his mouth, Jake could only close it again as no sound came to his lips. He wanted a lot of things; he wanted to turn back time and make everything right between them. He wanted to go back and make the right choices; he wanted to get back all the time he'd lost undercover. He wanted not to go, not to leave her again. He wanted Calleigh to know what she truly meant to him.

But none of those words would come, and Jake lowered his head in defeat, feeling utterly worthless as he stood before her now. "I just – I just wanted to say goodbye. I couldn't leave without saying that."

Calleigh closed her eyes for a moment, pursing her lips into a thin line. "I believe you told me that when you lied to me," she whispered dangerously, a clear warning in her voice. "You told me that when you kept the truth from me for months, when you thought I wouldn't find out." She gripped the table with both hands, feeling them begin to shake. "You said goodbye to me when you chose your secret life over our relationship - again."

"Calleigh…" he wanted to argue with her, to yell the truth to her, but his voice only came in a whisper. "I told you, it was never like that."

"But you never offered me any other explanation –"

"Because I couldn't!" Jake interrupted, his voice cracking though he tried his hardest to keep it strong. "I couldn't, and it nearly killed me, Calleigh!" He paused for a moment, digging his nails into his palms as he struggled to regain his composure. "And I'm…I'm sorry, Calleigh," he added, genuine regret in his now steady voice. "I'm sorry for everything."

His words sank into her, and slowly Calleigh felt her anger ebb away. She was still angry, but she couldn't be angry with him as he stood in front of her, looking more repentant than she'd ever seen him in her life. Sighing deeply, she bit at her lip, finding herself at a loss for words.

Her silence interpreted as something else, Jake let out a deep breath, pulling a frustrated hand through his hair. "I just…I couldn't leave without telling you. I'm sorry."

"Just forget about it," Calleigh murmured so quietly that Jake was unsure whether he'd heard the words at all. "Just let it go. It's nothing."

Though the anger had seeped away from her voice, her words made him feel no better. Her tone suggested that he'd only succeeded in hurting her more, by bringing up that which she wanted nothing more than to move past. She wanted to move past him. After all he'd done, the least he could do was allow her that, as much as it hurt him. "Fine," he muttered, watching intently as Calleigh pulled off her gloves and brushed her hair back from her face. "Forgotten," he lied, cataloguing each of her motions to memory one last time. "I'll just…"

His feet were already pivoting toward the door when a slight glint of light caught his eyes, stopping him in his tracks. As she pushed her hair away from her neck, Jake found his eyes drawn to the newly revealed skin. But it wasn't the perfect skin of her neck that caught his attention; it wasn't the silky softness that he'd kissed time and time again that drew his gaze. No, this time, his eyes were drawn to the simple chain which circled her neck, falling hidden beneath the fabric of her blouse.

It was just an ordinary chain, but a chain which he would recognize anywhere at anytime. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips; it was the first time in what felt like eternity that he had fought back what would've been a genuine smile. Unable to help himself, he took a step closer to her, noticing immediately the way Calleigh tensed as he entered her personal space.

Weeks before, Jake had turned his apartment, his car, and his office all upside down, because he couldn't find _it._ For the first time in six years, he had lost one of the trinkets that meant the most to him, one that he held close to his heart with only few companion trinkets. Jake wasn't a material person; he liked to have, but didn't need to have. His years spent undercover had taught him easily how to live on what he had in his pockets, and he was, after all, a pro at getting out fast, leaving everything behind. Treasured material possessions would've only held him back.

But this one…Jake just couldn't let it go, and it had devastated him to think that he'd been careless enough to lose it. Now, as his eyes locked on the so familiar chain, Jake realized it had never really been lost at all.

For all his devastation in believing he'd lost it, there was immense comfort in knowing it had been in the most caring of hands.

Before he could even comprehend the consequences of such an action, he was once more closing the distance between them, the widening of Calleigh's eyes not going missed by him. His hand surprisingly steady, Jake reached out, hooking a single finger in the chain that adorned Calleigh's neck. Immediately he could feel its familiarity; he would know that chain anywhere. It was the same one that had resided around his neck, and he knew what was attached to the chain.

His fingers brushed ever lightly over her collarbone, and Calleigh gave a nervous swallow, feeling her mouth suddenly go dry. "Jake…" she warned, though the light touch of his fingers had momentarily shattered any defense that she'd had left. He took no heed to her warning though, and ever slowly, his fingers slid along the chain, brushing against her skin in the process. With a slow tug, he pulled at the chain, gently revealing the medallion that resided at the end of it.

"I've been looking everywhere for that," he murmured, finding himself slightly in awe as he turned the medallion in his hand, the familiar cool metal bringing a warmth to his fingers. There was an intensity in his eyes that sent a chill down Calleigh's spine, and if her feet hadn't become rooted to the spot, she would've taken a step back, just to escape.

But she couldn't. She couldn't escape from the subtle touch of his fingers, from the heat that radiated from his skin as his fingers clasped the medallion like a long lost trinket. And then, suddenly his touch was gone. One last time, he turned the medallion in his fingers, and then slowly he released it, letting it fall once more over Calleigh's heart.

The poignant expression in his eyes was so clear to Calleigh, but even she could not discern what he was truly thinking. Something about the medallion had changed something within him, and Calleigh couldn't help but remember the questions she'd asked herself when she'd found it while cleansing herself and her place of Jake's things. Now more than ever, the fact that there was a significance behind the medallion was clear to her, and more than ever, she wanted to know.

Her anger with him had ebbed away, at least for the moment, replaced by genuine interest. "What's the story?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to meet his gaze. She felt her own fingers tingle, but she forced herself to resist the urge to lift her hand to the medallion around her neck.

For a moment, she feared that maybe she'd pushed him too far, that he wasn't going to reveal anything to her. And inexplicably rushed a flash of pain through her heart; it hurt, the idea of more secrets between them, even though Calleigh knew that a fair share of those secrets – probably most of them – belonged only to her.

Jake sighed deeply, immediately catching Calleigh's attention. "It belonged to my best friend," he began, surprising Calleigh with the amount of pain that already was audible in his voice. "Jeremy Wright. And to be honest, I don't have many memories from my childhood that don't have him in them. Good memories, I mean."

Calleigh watched him closely, and even though he was speaking directly to her, she couldn't help but feel as though she were spying on a private moment. Obviously there was something, some part of his story that was damn near killing him, and Calleigh couldn't remember a time when he'd looked so broken up. "When did you meet him?" she asked, grasping for something to fill the heavy silence.

Jake thought for a moment. "Third grade, I believe," he answered, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "We played soccer together that year. That year, and every other year until we both graduated."

"Soccer?" Calleigh asked, tilting her head. This was a story she'd never heard before; she had no idea Jake had been involved in sports. But then again, there had been so little about her past that she'd revealed to him as well. Shaking her head slightly, Calleigh pushed away that train of thought, unwilling to entertain it any farther. "I didn't know you played that. I, uh, I always pegged you for football," she admitted.

Jake smiled, though a sad smile it was. "I do love my Sunday afternoon football, and I did always dream silly dreams of making it in the NFL, but…" He shrugged. "I was always a better striker than a quarterback." His smile faded slightly, as his thoughts drifted back to the story at hand. "Jeremy could've been either, though. The coach of the football team tried to recruit him three out of four years in high school. But he stuck with soccer, and we took our team to four state championships."

He allowed himself a deep breath before he continued. "Jeremy got offered a soccer scholarship to UCLA. But you know what he did instead?" Jake paused, waiting for Calleigh to shake her head. "Instead of going off to California and making something of himself, he stayed behind and went to ULM with me," he said, remembering the very conversation they'd had about it. Vehemently, Jake had tried to convince him what a stupid decision it was, but Jeremy's mind had been made up. Instead of moving across the country to Los Angeles and pursuing the soccer dream he'd always had, he'd chosen to stay in humid, upstate Louisiana.

"We were roommates for all four years," Jake continued. "Took practically all the same classes, slept through all the same eight A.M. classes…" he gave a reminiscent chuckle, his gaze remaining downcast. "He's the reason I passed freshman calculus, considering I never went to that class often enough to really learn anything. But I mean, we were always there for each other, you know? There wasn't anything that I was forced to deal with by myself."

Jake paused, lifting his eyes only briefly to meet Calleigh's rapt gaze. "I always felt kind of guilty, though," he admitted, shifting on his feet.

"Why?" Calleigh asked quietly, already feeling her heartbeat quickening. This was a story she'd never heard, and she couldn't help but hang tightly to his every word. The fact that they were fighting, or that she wasn't supposed to be listening to him, or that he had once again hurt her after she'd placed her trust in him – none of that mattered right now. Now, Calleigh couldn't _make_ any of that matter to her.

Shaking his head, Jake gave a slow, heavy shrug. "I felt like I was holding him back," he said anguishedly, and Calleigh bit her lip, mentally restraining herself. If she were honest with herself, all she wanted to do was touch him in some way, any way. "All through high school, Jeremy was the star. Soccer captain, solid 4.0 GPA, senior class president. Everybody knew and loved him. And after graduation, he could've gone to UCLA on that soccer scholarship. He could've gone pretty much anywhere on a full ride. I bet he could've gotten into Yale or Harvard if he'd wanted to."

He breathed out slowly before continuing. "Me…I didn't care too much about grades until my last two years in high school. I had…well, other things on my mind. My teachers always told my parents I was bright, but that I didn't apply myself," he said, rolling his eyes slightly. "By the time I finally pulled it together during junior year, it was too late. I carried a 3.5 those two years, but that wasn't enough to erase everything from the first two years," he admitted, shrugging sheepishly. "I wasn't always that specimen of perfection you met in the academy," he found the will to joke, and to both of their surprises, the comment elicited a small snort of laughter from Calleigh. He smiled softly for a moment before continuing. "My point is, Jeremy could've gone anywhere, but he chose to stay at an in-state school with me." Jake hesitated for a moment, feeling the predicted lump forming in his throat. "He chose our friendship over the future he could've had. And I – I don't think I ever really told him how much that truly meant to me."

"I'm sure he knew," Calleigh murmured, watching the anguish flitting through his dark eyes. "He was the one who made the choice to stay, so I'm sure your friendship meant just as much to him as it did to you."

Jake shrugged, as though her words were little comfort to the pain he felt. "But still," he mumbled, shifting on his feet. "It took a little more than a semester for it to get old. He didn't fit there. I didn't either, but it was the best choice I'd had, given my GPA in high school, and finances, and everything. But between parties and friends, and girlfriends – well, flings, really - we made the best of it. But still, I felt so terrible by the end of those four years. It was no secret that Jeremy really hated it there. He just wanted that last year to be over. So did I, but again, I didn't have the choice that he'd had a few years earlier. I really couldn't go anywhere else.

"At graduation, we still didn't know what we were going to do with our lives, but one thing was for sure. That day, our degrees in hand, we both made a pact to enjoy the summer, and then we'd both get out of the upstate and never look back."

He allowed the words to lead into silence, and before she could even think about it, she was prompting him for more. "So what happened?" Calleigh asked, her eagerness just peeking through her blank façade.

"In essence, we parted ways for the first time in…God, I think it was fourteen or fifteen years," he said, disbelief tinting his own words. Some of the days he'd thought would never end, but as he looked back on them now, Jake could see just how quickly time really flew; he could see just how many years he'd let go to waste, and it stung him deeply. "We kept in touch, of course, but talking on the phone, and then later through e-mail… it just wasn't the same as hanging out and chatting over a beer or two. And those first few years, it wasn't as though either of us had the time to talk on the phone – at least, we didn't have the time at the same time."

Calleigh nodded. Biting at her lip, she couldn't help but think of the relationships she'd let fall by the wayside for that exact reason. "I've been there," she admitted, her mind flashing images of the friends she'd drifted away from. Her friends from college, the academy, the New Orleans police department, Janet Medrano…it was an endless list; an endless list filled with endless regrets.

"So, basically," Jake continued, fidgeting slightly, "we had that summer, and that was it." He chuckled slightly, remembering. "We did absolutely nothing that summer but waste time. We, uh, spent most of those three months down in Gulf Shores; drinking, talking about the future, checking out the pretty girls, just generally wasting time, you know? And then, after that…that was it. Jeremy made a split second decision to enlist in the Army. And I…I came to New Orleans and went to the academy…and I met you." Pausing, he allowed himself a moment to savor the memory of their first meeting – he needed that to make it through the rest of his story. "That…that was the last time we saw each other in person."

"What happened?" Calleigh asked softly, fearing that she already knew the answer.

Jake breathed out slowly. Though it had been years ago, the wound remained fresh, simply because he'd never dealt with it. It had been filed away in the back of his mind with everything else he just wanted to forget about – his parents' bitter divorce shortly after his eleventh birthday, constantly falling short of his father's critical expectations, his partner's fast turn to the dark side…

He never wanted to dredge any of that up again; all Jake wanted to do was move on from it. Suddenly though, he was beginning to realize why Calleigh had kept much of her childhood secrets from him – it wasn't because she _wanted_ to hide from him; it was just too hard for her to bring it up, and it hurt far more than she was comfortable with. Like him, she hadn't dealt with her past; she had hidden her demons instead of defeating them, thinking it wouldn't matter because she never planned on bringing them up again.

And though it pained him deeply, Jake knew he had to grant her that same amount of trust, of respect. It frightened him though; he'd never shared any of this with anybody. Calleigh was the first, and she would likely be the only one.

Steeling himself for the flash of agonizing grief, Jake tried to lift his eyes to her, knowing he'd find comfort in her beautiful emerald eyes. But he would only find it if he could hold her gaze, which he could not. "He, uh," he began, his eyes resolutely downcast, "they sent him to Afghanistan about six years ago, a few weeks after Christmas. He spent that last Christmas with his mom and his little sister, and that was the last they saw him. Five weeks into his deployment…" Jake's voice cracked. Embarrassed slightly at the sound, he raked a hand through his unruly hair, not surprised to find it damp with a nervous sweat. "There was a bomb," he forced out, the nails of one hand digging into his flesh. "He was – he was killed, along with six other men."

"Oh God, Jake," Calleigh murmured, feeling her own heart break for his obvious anguish. "I'm sorry…"

Jake gave what would've been a nonchalant shrug were it not for the telltale redness that colored his eyes. Clearing his throat, he nodded his head toward the medallion around Calleigh's neck. "Jeremy's dad gave him that medallion, right before he died of cancer. Jeremy was only thirteen." He swallowed, wishing more than anything he could push back the knot in his throat. "After that, I never saw him not wearing it. Unlike me and my old man, Jeremy and his dad were the best of friends; it killed him when he died.

"He treasured that medallion; it was the one thing of his dad's that he got to keep, and he always kept it with him. His way of keeping his dad near him," Jake continued, lifting his head in time to watch Calleigh slowly raise her hand, her fingers slowly closing over the cool metal. "It was in his belongings that they sent home from Afghanistan, and his mom – she –"

"She gave it to you?" Calleigh supplied quietly, her own throat feeling constricted.

"He'd told her to," Jake said with a slow nod. "That Christmas, he'd told her that if – if anything happened to him overseas, to make sure I got that. And so…" he nodded his head toward the medallion that still resided around Calleigh's neck. "There you have it."

"I – I never knew any of that," Calleigh murmured, her heart literally aching for him. "You never told me."

Jake smiled sadly, the depth of his pain clearly visible in his dark eyes. "You never asked."

Anxiously, Calleigh bit at her lip, turning her gaze downward. Instinctively she lifted a hand, clasping her fingers protectively around the cool metal. As she felt it pressed against her palm, Calleigh felt an intense surge of guilt consume her. It really did mean something to Jake; she'd known there had to be some significance, but she'd had no idea just how much it had meant to him.

And Calleigh had held onto the medallion for selfish reasons; she'd held onto it because it'd been too emotional to let go of him completely at the time. She'd wanted to keep some part of him, not realizing that she had chosen to keep the piece of him that probably meant more to him than anything else in his life.

_Including you?_

The rogue thought had no right to infiltrate her mind, yet somehow, it burrowed its way in, lodging itself right next to the guilt she felt over, in essence, stealing the medallion from him. But still, once the thought had flittered into her mind, it took hold of her emotions, closing down the receptiveness she'd kept while listening to him, and replacing it with the cold hurt that had plagued her for over a decade – the pain of knowing that in his eyes, she was never more than second best to something else. Logically, she knew it was selfish. But as she'd found to always be true when it came to Jake Berkeley, logic and emotion were members of two vastly different camps.

A sour taste in her throat, Calleigh closed her eyes, willing everything away. Lifting her other hand, she brushed her hair out of the way as she began to lift the medallion with her other hand. "I'm sorry I kept it…" she murmured, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

"No," Jake replied immediately, and Calleigh's breath caught in her throat as suddenly his hand had caught hers, stopping it in mid-lift. Despite knowing the danger, Calleigh couldn't help but look up at that moment, into his dark, intense eyes. "No," he repeated, more softly this time as he slowly released her hand. "Keep it," he requested, the relief of knowing it was safe overcoming the pain he felt over parting with it. Tilting his head, he gave a small smile. "It – it looks good on you. And, uh," he lowered his eyes. His next words made him uncharacteristically nervous, though it was a truth he'd bestowed upon her many a time before. This time, however, he felt sheepish about admitting it. "Jeremy…he would've been happy to know it ended up around the neck of such a beautiful woman."

At the endearment, Calleigh bit at her lip, feeling the tension surmounting her own body. "I can't, Jake," she said quietly, her eyes fixed upon the medallion in her hand. "It's yours, and I –"

"I'd rather you keep it," Jake interrupted, his fingers tugging at a string on his jacket. "I don't know…what's going to happen when I…you know," he explained vaguely, though he knew his words were enough to get his meaning across to Calleigh. "I don't want it with me; I – I want to know it's safe."

His words reawakened her mind, and as Calleigh let the medallion drop from her hand, letting it fall once more over her heart, she was reminded of the reason he was there. He was there to tell her goodbye; that he was leaving to go back to the life that she had always resented. The realization was a cold knot in her stomach; suddenly angry again, Calleigh swallowed hard, forcing her feet to take that necessary step back. "Fine," she said, her eyes trained on a spot somewhere above and behind Jake's shoulder. "I'll hold onto it until you get back."

"Thank you," he murmured, a true note of gratitude in his voice. Calleigh made no effort to reply, and Jake could tell by her suddenly stiffened posture that his time in her lab had come to an end. "I guess I should…" he mumbled, gesturing over his shoulder toward the door.

"Yeah, I guess so," Calleigh replied just as quietly.

She made no effort to say more, leaving an awkward tension in the air. And Jake didn't do so well with awkward tension. "I, uh, I'll see you around…when I get back," he mumbled, as close to saying goodbye as he could get in the moment. Calleigh nodded tersely, and with one last look, Jake turned away from her, leaving what was left of his heart in pieces on the ground behind him.

He was two feet from the exit when he heard the words that brought a fleeting smile to his lips; words that sent a momentary flare of optimism through his entire body. "Jake, wait!" Calleigh called after him, the words leaving her lips before she had time to think about them.

Ever slowly, Jake turned to face her. Eyes locked together, they held each other's gaze for a long moment before Calleigh looked away and moved from behind the table and began moving toward him.

It was as though something had snapped within her. Calleigh no longer had control over her own body. She couldn't stop herself; she was driven by a force more powerful than her force of will. Before she could even process the moment, her arms were looped ever tightly around his neck. Her eyes were wide as her mind tried to process her body's actions; tried to figure out why she hadn't remained in her safe zone behind the table, why she hadn't just let him leave like she knew in her mind was best for them.

But as soon as she felt his arms snake tightly around her, holding her close, all thought of the line between logic and spontaneity ceased to exist. Her eyes fell slowly closed, and Calleigh breathed in deeply, the scent of him assaulting her senses. It was almost too much, being in his arms again like this, but it felt so good…

The action had surprised Jake completely, but he only hesitated a mere second before his arms were around her. In that moment, as he held her close to him, it was as though time had stopped. No past, no future; just the present, just the here and now. It made him ache, to hold her like this, but at the same time, it was something he needed desperately. Letting out a shaky breath, he turned his head slightly, burying his face in the golden blonde of her hair. He wanted nothing more than to stay like this, but as soon as the wish had crossed his mind, Calleigh began to squirm against him, and he had no choice but to loosen his arms around her.

But she surprised him further. Calleigh turned her head slightly, and Jake shivered ,feeling her breath upon his cheek. The murmured words from her lips echoed in his ears, a cadence of her soft, slightly thickened accent. "Be careful," she whispered, and just as Jake thought she would pull away from him, he felt her lips brushing just ever lightly over his skin, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek.

All too quickly, it was all gone. Her lips were gone, and she was out of his arms again, standing before him with a sheepish look in her emerald eyes. It was too soon, and Jake couldn't stop his hand from reaching out, watching her eyes widen almost imperceptibly as he touched her face. Light as a feather at first, he couldn't help but cup her cheek fully, addicted to the feel of the softness of her skin.

Tracing slow circles along her cheek with his thumb, Jake couldn't help but lose himself in her misty green eyes. She was so close, yet so far away at the same time; she'd just been in his arms, but she was no longer his to hold. And now she was staring up at him, directly into his eyes, asking him to promise something he couldn't possibly promise. "Calleigh," he whispered, the slightest tremble present in his voice, "I – I don't know –"

"No," Calleigh interrupted, shaking her head. "Don't tell me that. Just tell me you'll be careful."

There was an urgency in her voice, almost as though she _needed_ to hear it. But it was an urgency that stole Jake's voice from him; he didn't know how to tell her anything right now. Staring into her green eyes, hearing her tell him to be careful, having held her in his arms again…all of it was affecting every move he made, every thought that rushed through his head. The scent of her perfume, combined with the desperate need to make her feel better took over his senses, his mind. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and the pounding of his heart told him what he already knew – that he had no control; there was no way to keep from doing it.

With the room spinning around them, Jake lowered his head, watching as Calleigh's eyes fluttered closed before allowing his to do the same. His mind had all but shut down, and, driven by the deepest desires of his heart, Jake gently brushed his lips over hers, giving her all the chance to pull away before he kissed her fully.

Calleigh stiffened immensely at first, but the screaming in her mind was quickly silenced by the skillfulness of his lips against hers. She couldn't help kissing him back, the non-protesting quadrant of her mind taking her back to a day that seemed forever ago; a similar kiss, a similar goodbye, though on the beach instead of in the lab. If that kiss had felt like the end, there were no words for the way this one felt. She couldn't stop the urgency that spilled forth in the way she kissed him; there was a fear that bubbled up within her, a cold fear that flooded her veins, making her tremble. A hand she lifted to Jake's chest, steadying herself while at the same time granting herself more contact with him.

Jake never wanted to break away from her, but he'd been dizzy and unable to breathe _before _he'd kissed her. Now, even though the feel of her lips mingling with his was nothing less than heavenly, he could barely stand now. His lungs burned and the entire world was spinning, and though it was the last thing he wanted to do, Jake had to break the kiss. Ever slowly, he pulled his lips from hers, the absence of contact hitting him immediately. His hand he kept along the skin of her cheek, still stroking softly as she slowly opened her dazed eyes to him.

He touched his forehead to hers, his eyes glancing briefly to the way she bit at her lip. Her request continued to echo in his ears, and at this point, Jake couldn't verbally deny her. But at the same time, he couldn't lie to her.

Stroking her cheek, he told her the one thing he knew in his heart to be true. "I'd do anything for you," he murmured, and just before gazing deep into her emerald eyes became too much for him, he tilted his head once more, bringing their lips together again.

At first, she met his lips eagerly, kissing him with the urgency she'd felt before. Jake's hand left her cheek and slipped back into her hair, reveling in its softness, taking with it the hypnotic touch he'd laved upon her cheek. As she kissed him, her mind began to awaken again, and the fear that filled her was replaced with a different kind of anxiety, a different kind of pain. Flashes of the past spiraled in front of her eyes, rendering his genuine-sounding promise absolutely worthless. How could his words mean anything when all of the past went against those words?

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, a beat of panic, of warning. As she felt his tongue flick lightly at her lips, a silent request to deepen this kiss, their final kiss, Calleigh found herself unable to grant him that. Both hands on his chest, she pushed him back, effectively breaking the contact between their lips. "Jake…" she mumbled, her eyes to the floor.

Her rejection stung him, especially as he watched her before him now. She stood protectively, her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze downcast. His mouth had gone dry; he felt he'd made a huge mistake when all he'd done was what his heart had wanted. "Calleigh…" he whispered, wincing at the scratching sensation in his throat. "I -"

"You should go." The words were quiet, soft, but the demand was clear.

"Calleigh, please –"

"Just go," Calleigh interrupted, the first noticeable trace of emotion in her voice. Biting hard at the inside of her cheek, she breathed in and out deeply, forcing the emotion out of her voice, away from her completely. She would _not_ break in front of him. Kissing him had already crossed enough of her boundaries; she would not cross any more with him. "Just go."

What else could Jake do? His head down, he nodded to the floor. Granting himself one last brief look at her, he quickly turned and prepared to leave. One last word he let slip from his lips, though he would never know whether she heard it or not. "Goodbye."

And then, in considerable anguish, Jake was gone, leaving Calleigh alone to watch as he walked away from her for the last time.


	34. For the Best

**_Chapter Thirty-Four_**  
_**For the Best?**  
-**  
**_

Calleigh felt like little more than a ghost as she pushed her way through the rest of her day. Her mind clearly elsewhere, she merely drifted through the motions, never really giving much thought to anything. She was numb; the familiar pins and needles sensation covered her entire body, most notably her fingertips, her cheeks, and her lips.

All the places that Jake had touched, she recalled.

It was reflexive now, the way her hand lifted to her neck as his name crossed her mind. She had no idea how it was possible, but the small medallion seemed to grant her the strength she needed, right when she needed it. The cool metal made her fingertips tingle, and as she pressed it deeply into her palm, she felt an inexplicable warmth spread through her, calming her nerves and releasing her tension.

It did nothing, however, to mute her exhaustion, the lack of energy she felt both physically and emotionally. Calleigh still felt raw, as though the slightest touch would set her skin bleeding. She refused, however, to admit it was because she missed him. Perhaps more so than before, it was important that she not admit that.

She held her head high as she made her way determinedly to the locker room, the end of the day finally upon her. It presented her with another problem, though, one she really didn't want to make a decision for. She didn't want to go home, but she didn't want to stay here, either. Calleigh wasn't sure where she wanted to go; there was nowhere she could go where she could escape the unwelcome pain. Exhaustion was so draped over her that she could barely think, so she clearly could not stay in the lab. But to go home…what memories would await her there? What nightmares? Was she doomed to another sleepless night?

Could she _stand_ another sleepless night? Her body was so close to falling apart as it was. Her muscles ached, her eyes burned, and her concentration had suffered beyond what she'd ever let happen before. It was just so unlike her, and she knew it. Knew it, and hated it.

She hated it almost as much as she hated the fact that she still craved _his_ touch. She tried to convince herself that it was merely an aftereffect of Jake's earlier stunt – his unique scent covered her once again, delivered to her with each breath. Here, in this moment, all she wanted was to go home and curl up in his arms, letting the touch of his fingertips and the sound of his heartbeat lull her into the deep sleep she so desperately needed. She wanted him to kiss her again, without fears of the future or the lies from the past coloring their emotions.

But she _couldn't_ want that. She just couldn't.

Far more quickly than she'd realized, Calleigh found herself standing before her locker, her gaze blankly on the dull, scratched metal. Any other time, she might've grabbed her purse from her locker and sailed out the door with a smile on her face, looking forward to a quiet evening at home. Tonight, she was going to have a hard time trying to do that. Oh, what she wouldn't give just to turn everything _off. _Her mind, her heart, her subconscious…there was nowhere she could go to escape any of it.

Calleigh sighed deeply, forced to resign herself to her fate. What else could she do? She lifted a trembling hand, not even bothering to try and stop it. She was alone; what did it matter? Even if she could still it, she would still know it'd been there – she was growing worse and worse at being able to successfully hide those kinds of things from herself.

For a moment, she faltered, her hand just millimeters from the lock. A deep shiver permeated her entire body as a strong sense of inexplicable foreboding blanketed her, a feeling which she could not place or explain. Beneath the dull lights, hidden away in one of the few secluded rooms in the entire lab, she allowed her walls to fall, though only a bit should she have to lift them quickly. With another deep sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned forward, resting her forehead along the cool metal.

She could not stop her mind from replaying the afternoon; she couldn't stop her body from responding to it. The memory of the warmth of his arms relaxed her; the feel of his lips against hers excited her. She couldn't help but shiver in response, but quickly she shook her head, knowing she had to let those feelings go. Holding on…it just simply wasn't an option for her; it was doing her far more harm than good. So why was this so different than anything she'd ever dealt with before? Calleigh had never had trouble walking away before.

At that moment, the locker room door came open, breaking Calleigh immediately from her reverie. She straightened her posture, consciously lifting the walls she'd let slip in her moment of solitude. The sound of her name reached her ears, and Calleigh turned her head, simultaneously tugging open the door to her locker. Her eyes were blurry for a moment, but they cleared with a few rapid blinks to reveal Natalia in the doorway, a smile on her lips.

In her state of permanent distraction, her personal detachment, it took every ounce of her concentration to focus on her friend as she spoke. And as perceptive as Natalia could be, Calleigh couldn't afford to waver. Her personal life was exactly that – personal. And while Natalia was her friend, there was just too much in her _personal_ life that she didn't want to share with anyone, at least not while it hurt so deeply.

But in focusing every ounce of her attention on Natalia, Calleigh had none to spare for her surrounding environment.

It had lodged on its side within the small crevice between the locker itself and the door. And with her head turned away, Calleigh never saw the small envelope, dislodged by the opening door.

She never saw the envelope slowly flutter from her locker; she never heard the almost inaudible thump as it hit the floor below.

And she never saw that small envelope, with her name scrawled so carefully along the front, swiftly slip beneath the row of lockers, away and out of sight.

"I called for you about three times in the hallway," Natalia said, her heels clacking as she stepped fully into the locker room, just as unaware as Calleigh was to what had just taken place.

"Oh," Calleigh replied, forcing a nonchalant shrug. "I guess I wasn't paying attention." At that point, she turned to her locker, finding it exactly as she'd left it that morning. Nothing taken, nothing left behind. And strangely, Calleigh found herself disappointed by that.

Natalia continued, shrugging off Calleigh's exhausted answer. "So, a bunch of us are going out for pizza to celebrate closing that case out in the 'Glades," she said, smiling. "You helped too, so you have to come."

"Natalia," Calleigh sighed. While earlier she had admitted that she didn't want to go home or stay in the lab, she also didn't really want to sit through a cheerful dinner with her colleagues. She wasn't in a very cheerful mood, needless to say.

"Come on, Cal," Natalia pressed, leaning against the lockers. "It'll be fun. And it's not a huge group of us; just me, Valera, Ryan, and Eric. And you, of course."

_Eric._

As soon as his name left Natalia's lips, Calleigh knew she should politely decline. There still remained too much…confusion there. Being around Eric was in so many ways just like being around Jake; Calleigh had no idea what to expect with either of them. And with both of them, as of lately, she tended to act before thinking. Clearly, that wasn't safe at all.

But somehow, Calleigh had found herself relenting, too easily, she thought upon looking back. Somehow, she'd found herself sitting at a booth with four of her coworkers, picking at a single slice of pizza while the rest ate hungrily.

She should've known what would happen, the day's events being what they were. If going home and going to bed was out of the question because of dreams, and if staying in the lab was also out of the question because of a certain memory, then who was Calleigh to assume something so simple as pizza with her friends wouldn't also reawaken some deep memory in her mind?

Picking absently at pepperonis, much like a child might, Calleigh couldn't help but fall victim to those memories, despite knowing that one pair of eyes was keeping quite a close watch on her.

**..**

_Traffic laws. Basic procedures for issuing citations. In the late hour, all the words of the text in front of her seemed to run together, blurring before her very eyes. Calleigh's flash cards were no help either, and she twisted her neck, trying to keep the oncoming stiffness at bay._

_Still, she knew she had to persevere, if she was to ever have any hope of besting the man beside of her. While Calleigh pored over the material, Jake sat beside her with a smirk on his lips, leaning casually back against the couch as he went over the material in his mind, barely even having to refer to the text at all._

_Damn his stupid photographic memory._

_With a sigh, Calleigh reached out to the side, but instead of finding a slice of pizza, her fingers came upon the bareness of an empty box. "Jake," she whined, drawing out his name in her accent. _

_He took one look at the box and then at the pout on her lips, and his smirk only widened. "Guess we should've gotten a large," he quipped, patting leisurely at his stomach. _

_Calleigh narrowed her eyes at him, though she couldn't stop her grin from peeking through. "You're such a pig," she teased, shoving the empty box at him. "I only got two slices."_

_Jake grinned. "Hey, it's not like I didn't offer," he pointed out, knowing Calleigh had to concede to that. "I'm quite sure that I asked you at least three times if you wanted anymore." He gave a playful chuckle, taking in the fake – he could tell by the grin that threatened to break through – pout on her lips. "I don't know why you're so upset about it," he teased. "I'm the one who should be pissed at you."_

_"What? Why?" Calleigh asked, pure puzzlement marring her playful expression._

_"I saw the look in your eyes when you told me to 'oh, go ahead, eat all you want; I'm not really hungry,'" he mimicked, laughing even as Calleigh hit him none too gently in the shoulder. "I know you were trying to sabotage me."_

_"Sabotage you?" What was he even talking about? Calleigh wracked her mind, but she couldn't even begin to fathom what kind of story he was trying to fashion up. "I don't even know _why_ I'd be trying to sabotage you."_

_"Because you want to win the race, that's why," Jake replied matter-of-factly, angling his body more toward Calleigh. He grinned, thinking of the rigors of the grueling physical training they endured each day. Running two miles through the streets of New Orleans, the heat and humidity adding to the feeling of overexertion that came from running just a little bit faster, a little bit harder than necessary. While the rest of their class lagged behind, Calleigh and Jake led the pack, the finish line on both their minds as they pushed each other to the absolute limit. He gave a quiet chuckle, lifting a brow in challenge. "And cheating is the only way you can do it, huh?"_

_Calleigh laughed in response, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous," she responded simply, smiling as she turned her gaze back to the book in front of her. But despite the exam they would have in the morning, first thing, the words on the pages all seemed to blend together, something they always seemed to do when she tried to study with Jake so close beside her. "I swear, I don't have a clue what you're talking about!"_

_"Don't play coy," Jake teased, gently shoving at her shoulder. Pushing the empty pizza box out of the way, he moved closer to her, grinning as he felt her tense in response. "You're trying to get me out of shape so I'll run slower," he breathed, chuckling quietly at her ear. "Because you know it's the only way you can beat me."_

_"Get over yourself, Jake," Calleigh replied, a clear tremble in her words. He always knew exactly how to rattle her, and having him so close, his hand now on her thigh was easily doing just that. "If I wanted to beat you so badly that I resorted to cheating, I wouldn't spend the time trying to fatten you up," she reasoned, shaking her head again. "By the time I got you out of shape enough, we'd be out of the academy." She flashed him her trademark grin, her green eyes sparking like diamonds. "If I wanted to sabotage you that badly, I'd just trip you."_

_Jake snickered, sensually pressing his lips to a spot just below her ear. "But that," he began with another kiss, "would be mean."_

_His gentle assault of kisses continued, leaving her entire body tingling and a smile on her lips. She squirmed just slightly, enjoying all too much the feelings that he brought forth in her. She loved it, but now, it just wasn't the right time. "Jake…" She shivered, feeling his lips close over her earlobe, tugging at it gently. "We're supposed to be studying."_

_"I already know the stuff," Jake murmured cockily, his lips now tracing their way to her neck. Despite her protests, Calleigh tilted her head, granting him better access with a low moan. "And you do too."_

_It was all but impossible to concentrate on his words when his lips felt so completely good against her skin. He suckled lightly at the junction of her neck and her collarbone, and Calleigh couldn't help shivering at the feeling. Before she'd realized it, she had a hand at the back of his neck, her fingers stroking through his unruly short hair. "But you're gonna…make me forget everything…" she sighed, knowing that process had already begun. "Jake…"_

_He snickered again, the hand that had been on her thigh now slowly creeping upward."Sabotage, baby," he teased, his fingers toying at the hem of her top. "Two can play at that game. Of course, I'm better at it than you are, since my plan would actually work…"_

_The cocky grin on his lips might've been annoying to anyone else, but despite her best attempts to react like anyone else, Calleigh simply found herself being driven wild by it. It awakened something within her; something that she was still so unaccustomed to, but something she knew she could very easily grow to like. Especially when the lips that had displayed that cocky grin were the same lips that just seconds later could leave her breathless and dizzy in the wake of their kisses. _

_"I told you!" Calleigh insisted between those demanding kisses; his demanding kisses that she just could not help but give herself over completely to. "I was never trying to sabotage you!" _

_"Oh, okay then," Jake replied easily, a grin on his lips. "Then I'm _not_ trying to sabotage you, either," he declared, closing the book in front of her and carelessly shoving it away before kissing her deeply once more._

_Calleigh giggled, unable not to kiss him back with the same urgency, the same desire. "Fine then," she mumbled, trembling as his hands slipped beneath her shirt to the bare skin underneath. "If you're not trying to sabotage me, then what are you hoping to do?"_

_His answer, along with the accompanying smoldering look in his eyes sent a delicious shiver of anticipation racing down her spine. "Why, I'm hoping to make love to a beautiful woman, of course," he murmured smoothly, flashing Calleigh that knee-weakening smile. _

_The charm in his voice melded with the desire that consumed her, and Calleigh couldn't help but melt right in front of him. What else could she do other than blush and grin? And at that point, Jake smirked, knowing he'd won her over. Pleased to find no more resistance, he cupped her cheek with his hand and slowly leaned in, capturing her lips in the lightest of kisses, at least until she responded eagerly to him, taking the lead as the kiss slowly deepened. _

_In the back of her mind, Calleigh forced herself to concede the fact – Jake was right. She knew this material, and she knew it all well enough to outscore everybody else in the class, except Jake, of course. _

_But then again, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all. _

_If she were given the choice between finally beating Jake at something, or sharing these moments with Jake…well, Calleigh knew which one she'd choose._

_Every single time._

**_.._**

A sudden touch to her elbow nearly had Calleigh jumping out of her skin, forcing her back to the present moment. She was unsure how much time had passed, but the table around her had emptied out, except for herself and Eric, who now stood beside her. Forcing a smile, she couldn't stop the way her body tensed as he quietly slid into the booth beside her, their elbows brushing for a mere second. "You're awfully quiet tonight," he observed softly, fixing her with a gaze that was intense yet inviting at the same time.

Calleigh shrugged off his observation, lifting a hand to brush a lock of blonde away from her face. "Where'd everybody go?"

With a low chuckle, Eric cocked his head toward the corner, where Ryan, Natalia, and Valera had gathered around a table closer to the big screen. "Apparently they're all big fans," he remarked, referring to the way they all seemed so absorbed in the game.

"Huh," Calleigh responded indifferently. "Who knew?"

Her rhetorical question left the door wide open for Eric to study her, and Calleigh couldn't help but stiffen next to him, her gaze resolutely downward on her barely-touched pizza. "You okay?" he asked after a moment, once more touching his fingertips to her elbow.

She wished he'd stop doing that, but for reasons she couldn't quite ascertain. Calleigh didn't know if it was the personal aspect of the gesture, or if it was merely because it was Eric. Either way, it left her feeling more and more uncomfortable with every small brush. With a nonchalant shrug, she gave a soft sigh, glancing up to meet his eyes for only a second. "Yeah. I'm just tired, I guess."

And there it was again, that infuriatingly gentle touch, and for the first time, Calleigh realized that it hadn't been a series of small touches. Almost in a hypnotizing pattern, he'd been drawing his fingertips in slow circles over her elbow. Was she really that numb, that unaware of her surroundings?

A better question was, even though it had startled her, why did she make no move to pull away from him? Was it possible that beneath her outside discomfort, the gentle caress felt nice? The possibility opened the door to a hallway which she was not ready to enter though, so she refused to let herself linger on it for long.

"You've been tired a lot lately," Eric murmured, and as he tilted his head, Calleigh knew he was searching for her eyes.

"Really, Eric," she persisted, and just to appease him, she finally looked up, really meeting his eyes for the first time that evening. "I think I just need a good night's sleep," she continued confidently, needing to convince even herself of that. With a steady hand, she lifted her slice of pizza to her lips, forcing herself to take a bite. It was only for his benefit, not hers as the mere aroma made her stomach twist into knots.

To her immense relief, Eric gave a quiet chuckle. "I know I'd do just about anything for one of those," he replied lightly, "I think I'm logging about four decent hours a night, if I'm lucky."

Calleigh smirked, lifting her glass of iced tea to her lips. "Four hours? That sounds nice…" she replied, half teasingly, half wistfully. She felt Eric's gaze upon her, and just barely did she fight the urge to squirm in discomfort. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of – this kind of alone time with Eric. If only it didn't feel so natural…

And that was where her problem arose. Calleigh wasn't uncomfortable because it felt uncomfortable to be around him. The root of her discomfort sprouted from the realization that she _did _feel so comfortable around him, and always had. He'd always been her best friend, after all. She wanted to be close to him again, but she didn't want the circumstances to be shrouded in a blanket of awkward tension.

It was that awkward tension that fell around them now, leaving Calleigh so deeply torn – as if she already wasn't torn to the core. Too much was fighting within her; urges and counter-urges making themselves so severely known, almost to the point where Calleigh feared she had no control over her actions. Eric was so close to her; she could easily smell the scent of his cologne, not to mention feel the heat from his body. If she were to completely surrender to her urges, she would lay her head atop his shoulder and close her eyes, knowing it would be mere seconds before his warm arms were around her.

It would satisfy her exhaustion, sure. But what about her bruised and battered heart? Calleigh would never know about that until it was far too late, and at this point, she was far too deeply hurt to take the chance. Instead, she nodded pointedly to Eric, knowing there was only one thing she could really do right now. "I think I'm gonna call it a night," she said quietly, waiting for Eric to slip out of the booth first.

She'd known he would do it, but she kept her eyes resolutely downward, pretending not to see the hand he extended, offering to help her from the booth. That was easier to pretend not to see than the hurt in his eyes when she rejected it, though, and Calleigh couldn't help but wince, wishing there was some quick, painless way to put an end to all of this. She was tired of being hurt; she was tired of hurting Eric.

Still, he seemed to shake it off fairly quickly. "Do you need a ride home?" he asked, his dark eyes searching her face for any sign of…anything, really. There was little worse than having her so closed off from him, especially when all he really wanted to do was be there for her.

She smiled softly, giving a slow shake of her head. "No thanks, I drove myself," she replied, brushing her fingers quickly through her hair. "Natalia tried to get me to ride with her, but I knew I'd end up being here all night, so…" She shrugged, keeping her smile despite the slight burst of tension in the air. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

But before she could even turn away, Eric reached out to her, gently catching her elbow with his fingers. "Let me walk you out," he suggested, and if Calleigh listened hard enough, she would swear there was a bit of desperation in his voice. "Please?"

Calleigh hesitated for a moment, but as the seconds wore on, as she looked deep into Eric's dark eyes, she found herself unable to say no. Even though it would've been best for both of them, she just couldn't say no. "Okay," she replied quietly, and with a quick wave to the rest of the group, they were gone.

The night air was warm, but the gentle breeze felt cool along the skin of Calleigh's bare arms. Feeling the goosebumps rise along her skin, she crossed her arms, fighting back the urge to shiver. It wasn't the only urge she forced herself to fight, either. It kept hitting her at the strangest times, the urge to lift a hand to the medallion around her neck. She could feel the cool metal resting against her skin, almost as though it was burning her, but she ignored any impulse to wrap her fingers around it.

Earlier in the day, she'd taken it off for just the briefest of moments, only to find that the surge of guilt that coursed through her was all but debilitating. She felt as though to take it off would be letting Jake down, which to her mind was a ridiculous notion, given the time and time again that he'd let her down, but somehow, that didn't even factor into her decision to keep wearing it.

"This is something we haven't done in a long time," Eric said quietly as they walked, so abruptly that Calleigh glanced at him, unsure of what he was talking about. He gave a soft chuckle, realizing her confusion. "Going out as a team," he clarified, watching Calleigh nod in response. She couldn't help but give a sigh of relief; unknowingly, he'd rescued her from the icy depths of her thoughts.

"It _has_ been awhile," she agreed, wracking her mind. He had a definite point; as the years went by, their team had become less and less like a team. There was one evening she could remember so vividly, but that couldn't possibly be the last time they'd all celebrated as a team, could it?

But Eric spoke, revealing her suspicion to be true. "We haven't done this since…" he paused, pursing his lips. It was still a fresh wound to him, having never truly dealt with it in a healthy way. "Since…Speed…"

"Has it really been that long?" Calleigh asked softly, feeling a fresh pang of guilt that for once had nothing to do with the unhealthy triangle in which she'd found herself.

"Yeah," Eric replied without hesitation. "The last time any of us got together like this was…" he paused, swallowing hard. "It was the week before he died." He turned his head to the side, glancing down at Calleigh as they walked. "It was me, you, Speed, H., and Valera. We all went out for burgers to celebrate closing a case we thought we'd never close."

"I remember that," Calleigh replied softly. "That was the last time I ever really saw him give a genuine smile."

Eric nodded slowly, mulling over Calleigh's words. "Yeah, he didn't do much of that, did he?"

"Not too often, no." She gave a deep sigh, her footsteps unconsciously bringing her closer to Eric. "I miss all that; feeling like a team, you know?" she murmured, the pain in her voice apparent. It was a welcome pain, though. While it was still pain, still anguish, in some way it felt good to hurt about something other than the state of her relationships. "I still miss him…"

At her words, Eric couldn't help but wrap a gentle arm around her shoulders as they walked. "Me too," he admitted, raw honesty in his words. "I thought it would fade over time, you know, like most things do," he said, unconsciously drawing Calleigh closer to him. If she realized the motion, she didn't resist. "But it hasn't," he continued, eyes downcast. "I don't think about it as much, but when I do…" he trailed off, finding himself unable to finish. He sighed deeply, lifting his eyes to the night. "In this job, it's not like we get a lot of time to process anything, is it?"

"No, we don't," Calleigh agreed quietly. "We just have to…come back tomorrow and do the same thing."

"Exactly." Eric sighed, chewing thoughtfully at the inside of his cheek. "You know, in all my years on this job, last year, after the shooting, that was the first time I ever got to really…think about anything. Not that I had much of a choice though," he paused, giving a low, rueful chuckle. "There's nothing that'll dredge up your innermost demons quite like department-required therapy can."

"How did that go?" Calleigh asked, before she could stop herself. She realized a bit too late that it was a bit of a personal question, one that Eric by all rights could – and probably should – refuse to answer.

But if Eric shared her qualms about that, he didn't make it apparent. He gave a would-be nonchalant shrug, his steps faltering a bit as his fingers inadvertently brushed against Calleigh's. "Sometimes it wasn't half bad; I know it sounds a bit clichéd, but there are some things that talking about really makes them better. I finally got a chance to let go of everything surrounding Speed's death. Marisol. The cases that I could never really just let go of. I feel like I finally found some kind of peace with a lot of that."

He paused just as they arrived at Calleigh's car, watching as she rested her back against the car, her attention one hundred percent on his words. Part of him wasn't exactly sure why he was telling Calleigh all this, but then to the rest of him, the part of him that included his heart, he wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't told her any of this before. He wanted her to know everything about him; he wanted her to be the only one with that knowledge of him. With a soft smile, he continued, unable to turn his gaze from Calleigh's expectant eyes. "And then there were some things, some subjects…talking about them just made them worse. Some things…it's hard enough to live through them every single day, and to have to share them with a total stranger…" Again he paused, the subject that caused him the most pain in that regard standing right in front of him. "Some things just hurt too much."

With those words, Calleigh turned her head, and Eric got the impression that she could see right into his mind. She had no response for him, leaving his words to lead off into a silence that was lined with unease, yet was far less awkward than it could've been.

Shuffling his feet, Eric trained his gaze resolutely on the dark asphalt below, part of him wanting to breach the subject in his mind, part of him wanting to bid Calleigh goodnight and be on his way. For all of Calleigh's willingness to get out of the restaurant, she didn't seem in any hurry to get home, if the reluctant way in which she now stood by her car was any indication.

She looked almost insecure, and without warning his mind traced back to the conversation he'd had with Jake. Was that the reason for Calleigh's discomfort, the events that had occurred between herself and Jake? Was she hurting as badly about that as he was about not being able to be with her? The idea was like an arrow to Eric's own heart, and before he could stop himself, the words were falling from his lips. "I heard what happened."

For a mere moment, Calleigh was confused; his words had come too suddenly for her to know what he was talking about. Scanning her mind, she searched for any indication of just what he might've heard, but she didn't have to wonder long. She wished, however, that he'd never clarified. "About you and Jake, I mean."

She immediately stiffened, her head snapping upward as she regarded Eric with a wide-eyed gaze. "Who told you?" she asked, barely concealing a tremor in her voice. It worried her, the idea that pieces of her personal life were fluttering around out there, fair game for the rest of the lab to discuss at will.

She'd been thinking Natalia or Valera, but when Eric spoke again, his answer nearly stopped her in her tracks. "I was talking to Jake, actually…"

His voice trailed off, almost as though the words sounded as strange to his own ears as they apparently did to Calleigh's. "Jake told you," she repeated, disbelief in her voice. "Jake."

"Um, yeah," Eric replied, feeling a bit sheepish about it now. "I, uh, might've asked him –"

"You asked him about us?" Calleigh interrupted, a bit of irritation coloring her growing disbelief.

"Not like that, Calleigh," Eric said quickly, lifting his hands in defense. Thankfully, Calleigh's eyes softened, almost as though she realized she'd jumped to conclusions. For the quickest second, her eyes were unshielded, stunning Eric with the wealth of emotion visible in the emerald orbs. But it was all gone so fast that Eric wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't just imagined it. Cautiously he took a step closer to her, though he resisted the almost deafening urge to reach out to her. "I just asked him if everything was okay, that's all. He seemed…conflicted about something. And you…" he paused, unsure of what was safe to say, yet still the truth. "I've been concerned about you for awhile now, and I just put two and two together. I just wanted to know if you were okay."

To his immense relief, Calleigh gave a shy smile, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm okay," she murmured, and to her surprise, she found herself appreciating the honest way in which Eric seemed to care. She sighed, and deep inside she couldn't believe she was considering talking to Eric about any of this. Just a sentence or two, though. It would get enough off of her chest without forcing her to relive everything. "It's just…hard. I feel like I'm going through the same thing I went through ten years ago." She smiled, attempting to downplay the depth of her pain. "But I made it through okay then, and I can do it now, too."

"Maybe there's a reason," Eric began quietly and cautiously, testing the waters before he really jumped in. He knew his words were overstepping his bounds, but they were tumbling from his lips before he could even really think about reconsidering. "Maybe…maybe it's for the best."

Calleigh bit at her lip, her arms tightening a bit more across her chest. What she would never admit was just how deeply those simple words cut her. Maybe Eric was right; maybe it was for the best, but that didn't mean it was best for her right now. Not that she had any idea what would be the best for her right now, but that wasn't the point.

His words had awakened something within her though, something that Calleigh would be forced to face eventually, probably as she lay down to sleep tonight. For now though, she ignored them, pushing them away and wishing they'd never reached her ears. She forced a smile, hoping to lighten the mood, though she knew there was no chance of fooling either herself or Eric. "Are you headed back inside?" she asked, tilting her head back toward the restaurant.

Eric thought for a moment, not exactly sure if that was Calleigh's way of telling him goodnight. "Actually, I think I'm gonna head on home, too," he answered, returning Calleigh's smile, his just as forced as hers. "We _were_ just talking about getting some sleep earlier," he reminded her, delighted when the remark elicited a sheepish giggle from Calleigh.

"That we were," she acknowledged with a nod. "Even so, you're going to leave poor Ryan in there to fend for himself?" she asked playfully, and for a moment, there resided in her eyes a faint glimmer of the sparkle Eric had grown so used to seeing there.

He gave a genuine chuckle, unable to suppress the small burst of hope that had erupted at the sight of that faint glimmer. "From what I saw, Wolfe was handling himself just fine."

Calleigh smiled, but once that smile faded into the night, Eric allowed himself to grow serious once more. She could make him smile, but he still remained concerned for her. "Look, Cal," he said quietly, his eyes downward as his feet brought him a step closer to her. "I know things have been…well," he hesitated, unable to find just the right word. He shrugged, offering Calleigh a very slight smile. "You know…"

"Yeah," Calleigh replied quickly, knowing all too well what he meant. "I know."

Eric nodded, swallowing the lump that had suddenly threatened to block his throat. "Well, uh, despite all that," he paused, taking a deep breath, "I still just want you to know that you can talk to me." Unable to resist that particular impulse any longer, Eric reached out, gently catching a stray lock of blonde and tucking it neatly behind her ear with a shaky hand. And really, given the rest of his impulses now that he was standing so close to her, that one was quite tame. He still hadn't forgotten the taste or the feel of her lips against his, and he was quite certain it was a memory that would stay with him for several years to come. "I'll always be here."

Calleigh bit anxiously at her lip, unable to fully meet his eyes. "Eric –"

"You don't have to say anything," he interrupted. "It's just – all I want is to know that you know that. And that I'm sorry, for…everything."

Eric never gave Calleigh the chance to reply to that, somehow knowing that the words would do more harm than good to the both of them. Closing the distance between them, he lowered his head and ever softly brushed his lips over her forehead in the most innocent of goodnight kisses, his ears not deaf to her quick intake of air. "Night, Cal," he murmured, giving a small smile as he slowly began to turn away from her, prepared to walk away. "Sleep well."


	35. Battles Lost

**_Chapter Thirty-Five_**  
_**Battles Lost**  
-**  
**_

_The last remnants of daylight were long gone, taking with them the rest of the day's oppressive heat. A gentle breeze blew in from the sea, cooling the already comfortable night air. With an almost musical cadence, the breakers of low tide crashed softly on the beach below, their steady advance and retreat illuminated only by the soft light of the moon in the clear sky overhead._

_For the first time in several nights, it was actually chilly, but that made no difference to Calleigh. She was blissfully comfortable, her body snugly enveloped by a pair of strong arms. She rested the back of her head against him, fighting the urge to close her eyes as he in turn rested his chin atop her head. It was the perfect fit, adding to the bubbly warmth that flowed within Calleigh's veins. _

_Her bare feet were chilled by the cool wood of the deck on which they stood, but if anything, Calleigh was grateful for the slight variation in temperature, for it kept her from completely slipping into a state of half-sleep. Normally she wouldn't mind, but there was just something so wonderful about watching the darkened waves while locked in his embrace, and she didn't want to lose a second of it. _

_She gave a soft, contented sigh, a smile tugging at her lips as she felt the gentlest of kisses trace across her temple. Her body began to sway, following the slow movements of his body as they fell into a sweet, yet intimate dance. Calleigh would never be sure how much time had passed, but then again, in a moment like this, time simply did not matter. The soft kisses faded, blending into the shivery sensation of him nuzzling softly into her hair, low, rumbling chuckles escaping his lips and raising goosebumps along Calleigh's arms. _

_He let out a deep breath, slowly breaking part of the spell as he loosened his arms around her, but only enough to turn her in his arms, his breath catching as the moonlight gave the beauty of her face an ethereal glow. Lifting a hand, he gently stroked the pad of his thumb over her cheek, entranced by the way her eyes fluttered in response. "Are you happy?" he asked quietly._

_For the moment in which it came, it was a strange question to Calleigh. The words were so serious falling from his lips, almost as if he actually questioned it. She gazed deep into his dark eyes, losing herself within them. Almost of their own volition, her hands slowly traced the path from his chest upward, looping behind his neck. The tips of his short hair prickled her fingertips, and she couldn't resist brushing the palm of a hand over it. "Of course I'm happy," she murmured, smiling brightly as Eric lowered his head, brushing his lips over her forehead. "I've never been happier."_

_The smile that tugged at Eric's lips was identical to Calleigh's. "Me either." With that, he dusted her face with kisses, chuckling a bit himself when she giggled at the way he kissed the tip of her nose. Pausing in his sensual exploration, he gave a sigh of contentment, his thumb continuing the soft strokes along her cheek. "I don't know what I would do without you," he whispered, almost inaudible against the waves below. _

_His words melted her completely, and Calleigh tilted her head upward just as he lowered his, happily meeting his lips in the sweetest of kisses. It added an extra sense of perfection to the already heavenly setting, and Calleigh couldn't help but wish the moment could never end. _

_And perhaps it never had to. Their lips mingled slowly, both of them relishing in the fact that there was absolutely no reason to rush. They had all the time in the world. With a gentle caress of his tongue, Eric requested entrance to the cavern of her mouth; entrance that was happily granted with a soft moan. She cupped his cheek in her palm, almost as though trying to draw him closer to her. _

_It was oh so delightful, and Calleigh ignored as best she could the steady burning that grew within her lungs. All she cared about right now was more of this, more of Eric. The way he slowly teased her tongue with his was driving her crazy, weakening her knees and sending shivers down her spine. A soft moan of pleasure sounded from her throat, her hands slowly looping at the back of his neck as she held on, her body flush against his, his arms holding her tightly. _

_But despite however much she tried to ignore it, the need for oxygen soon made itself a worthy opponent, the burning in her lungs becoming relentless; the dizziness was all but consuming her, despite the fact that in the moment, Calleigh would rather survive on Eric's kisses instead of the oxygen her body so desperately required. Reluctantly, she slowly parted from him, tiny black dots dancing in her vision as her eyes opened once more to Eric's. His eyes were filled with such adoration that Calleigh couldn't help but blush under the intensity of his gaze. _

_The kiss had left her entire body tingling, and she wanted nothing more than to go inside and curl up with him, sharing more and more lazy kisses as the night drew on. Taking a slow step back, Calleigh allowed her hands to slip down the length of Eric's arms before her fingers locked securely with his. She tugged playfully at his hands, tilting her head as a slow, sweet smile lifted the corners of her lips. "Come to bed?" she suggested softly, giving his hands one more gentle tug._

_Eric gave a soft smile; how could he ever possibly resist her? His eyes never leaving hers, he lifted her hands to his face and gently pressed a single kiss to the inside of each wrist, his lips lingering along her soft skin. "I'll be there in a minute, beautiful," he murmured, the warmth of his breath teasing her skin. _

_Calleigh bit at her lip; she wanted him to come now. Slowly though, she nodded, smiling at him once more. "Okay," she murmured, reluctantly releasing his hands, missing his warmth immediately. "I'll be waiting."_

_She backed away slowly, sharing with him a final smile of companionship before Calleigh turned away from him, her eyes toward the doorway. She took one step, two steps, and a third; the next step would have her feet falling upon the soft, plush carpet of their bedroom as opposed to the hard wood of the deck, but that was a step she never got to take. _

_At that moment, just before she crossed over that threshold, everything changed. _

_The air behind her was cracked by a deafening crash, followed quickly by a searing heat that consumed everything in its path, leaving Calleigh gasping for air. The tranquility she'd treasured so dearly was completely shattered, leaving behind a sense of panic, fear._

_As she turned in slow motion, her eyes came upon a completely different scene than the one she'd witnessed before. The deep blue of the ocean was gone, taking with it the beautiful white sand of the beach. The sky had become black, no trace of the soft pinks and oranges of sunset remaining. Even the deck was gone, replaced by what looked and felt like cold asphalt beneath her feet. _

_And Eric…_

_The breath was immediately knocked out of her lungs as she saw him, laying motionless on the dark ground below. She called his name, but no sound left her lips as she failed to find her voice. Around him was quickly growing a deep pool of crimson, growing almost too rapidly for any life to still reside within him. _

_And yet, somehow, he held on. Gasping for air, he clawed at his chest, almost as though trying to stem the bleeding and remove the cause of it at the same time. His body shook as he struggled, and as his panicked eyes glanced up and locked onto Calleigh's, she somehow found the strength to rush forward once more, carried by a force other than the direction of her own thoughts, for her mind had all but shut down. _

_She dropped to the ground, ignoring the stabbing pain that shot through her knees. A quick survey revealed a mangled rip in his shirt, the wound on his skin underneath – four wounds, four extremely fatal wounds. _

_Right over his heart._

_And yet, despite the river of blood that poured from him, still he fought, ever unwilling to let go. Calleigh was in full panic mode; not knowing what else to do, she pressed her hands atop his chest, her heart aching as Eric gave such a pitiful yelp of pain. "I'm sorry, Eric…" she murmured, her vision clouding by the tears that threatened to spill at any moment. _

_Eric sputtered, struggling for breath, for life. He gripped Calleigh's arm with a shaky yet surprisingly strong grasp, his eyes wild as he fought off the pain in an effort to stay with her. "Cal…"_

_He tried so hard, but the life was quickly draining from him; Calleigh could see that in his eyes. Her heart pounded relentlessly, already aching in the throes of impending grief. But as she opened her mouth, the words that tumbled from her lips sounded foreign to her, and Calleigh herself couldn't find a reason for them. "This wasn't supposed to happen," she whispered frantically, her panic growing as she watched Eric's eyes slowly grow glassy, unfocused. _

_What little focus his eyes retained was not on her, though, and Calleigh leaned forward, desperate to hold his gaze, for deep inside she knew she was losing him. He murmured her name, the utter pain in his voice bringing forth the tears, finally. "You were never supposed to get hurt…"_

_If the words made as little sense to Eric as they did to the tiny logical center left functioning in Calleigh's mind, he was too far gone to realize it. Instead, he merely lifted a hand, shakily pointing in an arbitrary direction just behind Calleigh's back. "Watch out…" he forced out in a pained whisper._

_Calleigh shook her head, not comprehending his warning. "Eric, what?"_

_"Cal…watch out…"_

_It seemed to be the last of his strength. With those words, his head fell back, and Calleigh turned her head, whipping her gaze around to where he had pointed. A strangled cry left her lips, and every drop of blood within her veins suddenly ran cold. Her head spun, and she couldn't believe what she was seeing. _

_The resemblance was uncanny; there was no question about it._

_Long blonde hair, cold green, almost black eyes. Lips curved downward in a severe frown. Her hands shook as she held the gun outstretched, and her cheeks shone with tears as they fell from those darkened eyes, the only emotion visible on her otherwise stony face. _

_It was Calleigh. Herself. There was no question about it; no question other than how, of course. How could she have so coldly put four bullets in Eric's chest when, just seconds before, she'd been snugly enwrapped in his warm arms? How could she be standing a few yards away while at the same time kneeling on the ground beside Eric? _

_How could she ever be the one to do something like this to Eric? _

_Suddenly, Eric convulsed, regaining Calleigh's full attention. His eyes rolled back in his head, and Calleigh found her state of panic elevated beyond what it had been before – Eric was dying, and she couldn't do a thing to save him. _

_Without any thought to the blood pouring from him, a frantic Calleigh lay her head against his chest, searching out his heartbeat. It was an erratic sound, not at all the comforting, predictable rhythm that had for countless nights been her lullaby. It was fighting a losing battle, a realization firmly entrenched within every single beat. His convulsions faded, his body still once more, and Calleigh squeezed her eyes shut, knowing he was passing through death's door. _

_And then, abruptly, he spoke once more. "Calleigh."_

_So many descriptions could be used to illustrate that voice. Weakened, yet persistent. Distant, yet so near, so clear. Laced with debilitating pain, yet determined to ignore it, to push through. Empty, hopeless, yet hanging on by the thinnest thread. _

_But there was one description that didn't fit, and Calleigh felt her heart clench as she realized what it was. It sounded different than the voice that had whispered sweet nothings to her just moments before, and not just because of the pain and weariness that saturated that voice. _

_This voice, the one that called out to her now…it wasn't Eric's voice. _

_With considerable trepidation, Calleigh lifted her head from his chest, not even feeling the blood that covered her, his blood. _

_His blood, on her hands. Literally and figuratively._

_She stared down at his chest, almost lost in the crimson river that still flowed from him, almost as though with no end in sight. There was no way he could still be alive, not with that much blood loss. And there was that voice again, so not Eric's voice, but a voice she knew all the same. "Calleigh…"_

_It was as though some unseen force was controlling her body, for it wasn't by her own direction that her head slowly turned to the side, revealing to her yet another impossibility. But he was there, plain as day before her, dark eyes, unruly dark hair, everything. _

_Eric was gone, the same wounded, dying body replaced with Jake. _

_Trembling, she slowly reached a hand out, her fingertips brushing over his ever-present stubble before tracing their way along his cheek. Her mouth was dry, but somewhere she found the strength to summon her voice, shaky though it was. "Jake…"_

_He tried to lift his head, but with a sudden coughing spell he fell back once more, struggling for breath. Her heartbeat accelerating in her chest, Calleigh felt the surge of panic rush through every inch of her body – Jake couldn't breathe. He was choking on the very fluid that was so imperative for life. _

_And it was that crucial moment that every lifesaving skill she'd ever known seemed to simply sail out of the realm of her knowledge. Calleigh didn't know what to do for him; she didn't know how to save him. He was bleeding to death right in front of her._

_With a grip too strong for someone so weakened, Jake caught her arm in his hand, commanding her full attention. He summoned what little bit of strength he had, enough to lift his head just a bit. Instinctively Calleigh's free hand went to the back of his head, gently cradling him. She murmured his name, feeling the short strands of dark brown thread through her fingers. _

_He swallowed, a difficult task considering all the blood in his chest, flooding everything. Calleigh gasped softly as he raised a shaky hand, though his fingers were surprisingly steady as they traced ever gently along her cheek, the touch of a ghost. "Calleigh…" His eyes were watering now, though from pain or something else, Calleigh couldn't be sure. All she knew was that she found her own eyes watering as the next proclamation came tumbling from his lips. "I love you, Cal," he forced out, trailing off as he lapsed into a sputtering cough. _

_Calleigh's own heart stopped as a powerful emotion welled up within her, quickening her breathing, making her dizzy. She wasn't sure what it could be, but it felt so very similar to fear. Her hands were shaking now, her fingers clumsy as she tried to lock her fingers with his, finally succeeding on the third try. "Jake, don't, okay? You're going to be fine," she murmured, half hysterically. She didn't believe the words herself, but if Jake believed them, maybe he could hold on a bit longer? "Just hold on, okay? Somebody's coming; somebody has to come. Please…"_

_There was desperation in his clouded eyes, almost as if he needed her to believe him, above anything else. Desperation, and fierce determination. He held Calleigh's gaze steadfastly when it would be so much easier to give in to the impending darkness. Fighting with the last of his strength, he sucked in one last breath, repeating his desperate declaration with the last of his resolve. "I always loved you."_

_And then, he was gone. _

**_.._**

Calleigh awoke with a strangled cry, nearly choking on the air that rushed through her trachea as she gasped in horror. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, one of many indications that she hadn't been asleep for too long. Her heart pounded angrily in her chest, accompanying the violent shaking that plagued every inch of her frightened body.

She lifted a shaky hand to her face, glad for once for the cold sweat that came with her nightmares; it allowed her to not acknowledge the tears that fell from her eyes, triggered by such a nightmare.

Rising to a sitting position, Calleigh buried her face in her hands, allowing her damp hair to fall around her in a dark curtain. Eyes closed, she allowed her mind to play through the events of the dream, the ones that had stood out to her.

_The softly crashing waves on the shoreline below._

_The crisp night air from which she was shielded by the warmth of his – Eric's – arms. _

_The kiss._

_Jake._

_The blood._

It all came back to that, no matter which way she tried to look at it, and it made her shiver uncontrollably. The mere thought of it was enough to accelerate her heartbeat, all over again. With steady, deep breaths, Calleigh struggled to control her body, but to little avail. As the novelty of the dream wore off, it left a deep feeling of nausea in her stomach, though she knew there was nothing in there that could possibly be expelled. It was an acidic nausea, the steady burning sensation adding to the churning of her unsettled stomach. Even in her awakened state, she could still smell the blood, the huge, crimson pool of blood, and while she was by no means affected by that in the lab or at a scene, the fact that it was the blood of someone she cared about changed everything.

Whose blood had she spilled?

Was it Jake's, or Eric's? Calleigh really had no way to tell. The entire dream was such a riddle to her, the true meaning shrouded in a kaleidoscope of vivid, frightening images. It was a dream that had substantially scared her, more than she would ever admit in six hours time, under the glow of daylight. But now, under the cover of darkness, she had nowhere to hide from such an admission, nor could she hide from the revelations that slowly unraveled from it.

She was afraid of losing Eric.

She was afraid of losing…

_No._

She would _not_ let her mind wander that alley. Jake was gone. Already lost. In her life, in her home, it was as if he had never existed…physically, at least.

_Except…_

Too tired to resist it, she lifted a shaky hand to her neck, her trembling fingers encircling the cool metal of Jake's medallion. There was another truth she had to face lurking just beneath the surface. As long as she wore the small medallion, she couldn't fully be parted from Jake. For her to truly let go, to fully heal and move forward, she would have to take it off and forget about it.

But not tonight. Tonight, she barely had the strength to think about it. That was deliberation she would leave until the morning, until sunlight was on her side. For now, she still had another daunting task before her – untangling her dream, as best as she possibly could. Beyond the literal and hopefully absurd meaning – that both Eric and Jake were going to die at her hands – she had no idea what it could possibly mean. It was just like any of the rest of her dreams; they were just too vague to process.

Frustratedly, Calleigh rubbed at her temples, already feeling the headache that would make itself painfully known by morning. Mentally clearing out a space in her head, she attempted to look at it piece by piece.

In her dream, Eric had meant everything to her. She'd been happy with him.

And then, she – the second Calleigh, but still Calleigh nonetheless – had killed him.

Except it had been Jake who had died. Or had Eric died as well? It was so confusing, and if that weren't enough, Calleigh was already losing pieces of it.

Maybe death wasn't the point, though. Maybe it was something else, and death was only symbolic. And perhaps the gun which Calleigh shot so coldly was merely symbolic as well. The bullets, however, seemed so real, especially as they pierced through Eric's heart, leaving him bleeding on the ground below.

With a disgruntled sigh, Calleigh forcefully shoved the blankets away from her body, away from her clammy skin. She slowly spun to the side, letting her legs hang over the side of the bed as she stared pensively into the dark. No matter how hard she tried to look merely at the logistics, she couldn't get the picture of Eric – or was it Jake? – laying bleeding on the ground out of her head. It was almost as though she were still watching the scene play out, over and over again – it was the one piece of the dream she knew would not fade away as dreams were apt to do.

She knew one thing was certain. While she hadn't taken a gun to him in real life, she _had_ hurt Eric; she knew that. A wave of shame rushed over her as the selfish realization hit her square in the chest. She'd wanted to keep him close, but not _too_ close. She'd wanted distance, but she didn't want to let him go. Even now, she still wasn't sure what she wanted. And through it all, Eric had been by her side, clearly hurting every time she pushed him away, clearly grasping at every hand she offered him. It was a brutal cycle, one she did feel terrible about putting him through. Calleigh knew the pain of heartbreak, and if that was truly what he felt every time he'd seen her with or heard her talk about Jake, then perhaps the pain was nearly like that of death.

But what about Jake? Where did he fit into all of this? Somehow, Eric in her dream had become Jake, but Calleigh could wrack her brain for hours and not understand that. _He_ had never been the one who'd been hurt. _He_ was the one who didn't care. _He_ was the one who _did_ the hurting. If he'd been hurt, Calleigh sure hadn't seen it; once again, she'd only seen the lies, the falsities.

Besides, Jake Berkeley didn't let himself close enough to ever get hurt. Either that, or he'd patented the best technique ever in which to hide it.

And what about the words he struggled so desperately to get out, almost as if he _couldn't_ die without Calleigh hearing them? Until now, she'd repressed them, her mind on the more gruesome parts of the dream. But now they flooded to the surface, their blunt directness echoing in Calleigh's ears almost as though from a distant place; they sounded so far away. But they were there, and their presence sent a slow chill all the way down Calleigh's spine, leaving her shivering in its wake.

_I love you._

The words had been in Jake's voice, but how could that completely negate all the sweet nothings that had fallen from Eric's lips, or the kiss that he had bestowed upon her? Once again, she had actions from one, and words from the other. What did it all mean? Was it another ploy from her subconscious mind to force her into a decision? Or was it simply a product of exhaustion and perhaps something funny to eat? She was no stranger to having strange dreams because of something she'd eaten before bed.

Only problem with that, of course, was that she hadn't eaten hardly _anything. _Her stomach protested loudly in response to the thought, but Calleigh knew if she gave into the urge to eat, her stomach would just as quickly turn on her. It was an endless cycle of nausea and hunger, and really, hunger was easier to deal with on top of all the stress her body and emotions were dealing with.

Maybe it _was_ just the stress. Calleigh had been locked within this agonizing triangle for over a year; she couldn't stop thinking about either Eric or Jake. She'd never wanted to let go of either of them; perhaps that was the fear shining through in her dream – losing both of them.

It was the same thing her brother had warned her about, so many months in the past.

_"If you try to hold on to both of them, you're going to end up losing both of them."_

Was that what she was coming down to? The thought made her shudder violently, and all thought of any hunger left her stomach, replacing itself with a cold block of nauseating ice. There were three possibilities formulating before her mind's eye, each one of them driving a stake a little deeper into Calleigh's bruised, battered heart.

Maybe she had already lost Jake, but she could still salvage what she had with Eric.

Or, perhaps in salvaging what she had with Eric, she _would_ truly lose Jake.

Or there was always the literal possibility. She could end up starting a life with Eric while Jake was violently murdered in some dark alley somewhere. Calleigh squeezed her eyes as tightly as she could, for the very thought sickened her. As angry with Jake as she was, the last thing she ever wanted was for him to die.

With that, Calleigh stood abruptly from the bed, ignoring the rush of dizziness that attacked her with the quick movement. She'd had enough of this; the stress, the heartache, the indecision – it was all running her into the ground. She had no energy, no thought for anything but this. She knew part of what she had to do to escape from it all, but she couldn't do anything without a good night of dreamless sleep.

With a sigh of defeat, Calleigh slowly padded her way out of the bedroom, trying her best to ignore the feel of Jake's medallion as it brushed against her skin with every small movement. She was tempted – very tempted – to take it off, but somehow she knew it would take more than what she could devote to that motion right now – more thought or more emotion, she wasn't sure. She just knew whatever it would take, she didn't have right now.

A dim nightlight glowed in the corner as she stepped into the kitchen, putting forth just enough light so Calleigh could see where she was going, but not so much that it would reinforce the unnatural pallor of her skin or agitate the already aching burn in her eyes. Her path clear to her, she fixed the cabinet with a daring stare as she crossed the kitchen, in front of it in almost no time.

It was a sign of weakness, she knew, but at this point, the benefit of sleep outweighed any accusations of weakness her conscience could lob at her. For a moment, she closed her eyes and garnered her strength, breathing deeply before she jerked the cabinet door open, perhaps a little more forcefully than was necessary. Calleigh didn't care about that, though; her current concerns were a little more…_concerning_ than that.

After all, addiction ran on both sides of her family, a dark thought that chilled her as she rummaged through the medicine cabinet. It was why she had resisted the assistance of medication up to this point – she would _not_ end up like either one of her parents, in any way, shape, or form. That simply was not an option to her.

But tonight, all she could do was take the chance and hope that she had more control than that. One time did not equal a problem, whether or not she believed she should truly need the help or not. Finding the small, unopened box, Calleigh made quick work of the packaging. She took a glass from the neighboring cabinet and quickly padded to the sink before those accusations of weakness in her ears could convince her otherwise.

With a glass of water, Calleigh downed two small caplets, closing her eyes against the accusations that danced before them. Driven by ceaseless nightmares, she'd finally succumbed to the use of medication to find sleep, a process which should've come naturally to her exhausted body. Immediately she felt the guilt, the weakness, but she forced both of them aside resolutely before padding her way to the living room, to the couch that had served as her resting place far more often than her bed had in the past few months.

Forcing all thought of Jake or Eric from her mind reduced her to the monotonous task of counting sheep. It wouldn't help get her to sleep, but it _would_ give her something else to concentrate on. With that newfound determination, she lay down, already feeling her back protesting her choice of resting place. Calleigh ignored it though as she covered her still trembling body with the blanket from the back of the couch.

And with that, she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, simply waiting for the sleep medication to do the job guaranteed on the box, wishing it was really that simple.

If only the one thing she needed so badly – sleep – wasn't also the one thing she dreaded more than anything right now.


	36. Playing with Death

**_Chapter Thirty-Six_**  
_**Playing with Death**  
-**  
**_

Sunlight was streaming brightly through the windshield of the Hummer, and not even the pull-down visor nor his darkest pair of sunglasses could halt the abuse on his eyes. It was like looking directly into the brightest of lights, and Eric could feel his eyes watering. He squinted, attempting to keep his eyes on the road in front of him, desperate for the next turn so he wouldn't have to drive directly into the sun anymore.

The bright sun and his constant squinting wasn't helping matters with his head either. He'd woken up that morning with a slight twinge around his ear, one that had slowly grown into a nagging, dull ache that not even the strongest of painkillers would've knocked out. It was persistent, and once it started, it was there to stay until it grew to an agonizing crescendo. Just one of the many perks of living with a bullet lodged in his brain.

Beside him, Calleigh seemed unbothered by the persistent sunlight – in fact, she seemed to glow, and it was all Eric could do to keep his eyes away from her and on the road. She seemed…different, though Eric couldn't quite put his finger on it. All he knew was that over the past weeks, she had been smiling more – that bright, beautiful smile that never failed to leave him speechless.

Feeling his gaze on her, Calleigh slowly turned her head, giving him one of those breathtaking smiles. "The light is green, you know," she teased, tilting her head slightly.

"I know that," Eric replied, feeling a bit embarrassed that she'd caught him watching her. Gently he eased his foot back to the gas, reluctantly pulling his eyes back to the road. "You in a hurry to get there?"

Calleigh shrugged, peering at him over the top of her sunglasses. "Not really, but the faster we get there, the faster we get finished."

Eric gave a quiet hum of agreement. "Maybe our jobs will be easy today too," he mused, mentally crossing his fingers. The dull ache in his head had progressed through the morning, and it was slowly becoming more than just a dull ache. Eric knew what was coming; he'd learned the signs by now, but for now he merely shrugged it off. Maybe it _was _just a normal headache…there was always a chance of that, especially since he hadn't slept well the past couple of nights.

Pushing those thoughts away, he glanced once more to Calleigh, a playful grin on his lips. "Maybe we can get in, get out, and be done just like that. I sure would like to go home early tonight."

Lowering her window a bit, Calleigh gave a genuine laugh, unable to deny how nice it felt. Still foreign, but she was getting better, and really, how much could she really expect after just six weeks? "Dream on, Delko," she teased, her eyes sparkling as she grinned at him. The fresh air felt nice as it hit her face and blew through her hair, and she couldn't help but lean back, sighing softly.

Eric smirked, glancing to her. "What? You can't blame me for hoping!"

"For hoping, no," Calleigh teased, brushing her fingers through her hair. "But for actually believing it's possible? Absolutely."

_"Anything_ is possible," Eric refuted teasingly. "And besides, you'd think that eventually we'd have to get an easy call-out, so why not this one?"

Again Calleigh laughed, taking note as Eric turned onto the street of their crime scene. "Yeah, and you'd think that you would eventually learn that every time you say that, we end up processing evidence late into the night."

"Oh, so it's my fault? I jinx it?" Eric retorted with a chuckle.

Calleigh snickered. "Hey, you said it, not me."

The bubbliness in her voice was undeniable, and Eric couldn't help but smile. He'd missed that; in the wake of Jake's departure, that sweet, bubbly lilt had seemed to depart along with him. And now, it seemed as though it was slowly on its way back, though Eric couldn't be sure if it was because _she_ was getting better, or if she was merely pretending – something she'd always been the best at. Only time would tell, he supposed.

In the meantime, he couldn't help but enjoy it. "That's nice to hear," Eric commented quietly after a moment, affording Calleigh a short, friendly glance.

Her smile faded slightly. "What?"

"You. Laughing." Pausing, Eric shrugged; the words had sounded less awkward in his head. But then again, when it came to Calleigh, it was becoming more and more usual that that was the case. "It's just – it's been a long time…since I've really seen you laugh, smile…"

Immediately the atmosphere in the Hummer seemed to shift. Suddenly uncomfortable, Calleigh leaned back, her teeth nibbling discreetly at her lower lip. Her fingers moved upward, almost as though driven by a magnet toward her neckline. But instead of the round, textured medallion she'd worn for much of the past several weeks, her fingers came upon a small, heart–shaped pendant.

After six weeks of wearing it, her neckline had felt empty without Jake's medallion around it. The small pendant served as a neutral stand-in of sorts; it wasn't what she expected – maybe hoped – to find as she reached upward, but it kept her from feeling completely naked. It was almost as though his medallion had become a part of her – parting with it had been a trying process, but she'd eventually been able to leave it laying carefully on her nightstand, in plain sight should she need to find the comfort it brought her.

It had been six weeks since he'd said goodbye. Six long, desolate weeks. It was time to let go. Resolutely, Calleigh dropped her hand again, refusing to acknowledge the fact that finding the small heart pendant there instead of Jake's medallion had left her feeling even more ill at ease than she had before.

As the easy comfort of the drive had suddenly been broken, neither spoke another word for the rest of the ride. Almost as soon as Eric put the Hummer into park on the driveway, Calleigh had jumped out, kit already in hand. Eric was confused; all he had done was mention how nice it was to hear her laugh again. Perhaps he should've kept his mouth closed.

He almost lost his balance as he stepped out of the Hummer, a realization that sent a cold shiver down his spine. For a moment, he simply hesitated, one hand on the door handle as he breathed deeply. _Not now_, he repeated over and over in his head. _Please not now._

"Is everything okay?" Calleigh asked slowly, unable to not notice Eric's sudden hesitation. She stood a few feet away from him, watching him with a concerned eye. "You look awfully pale…"

Eric breathed deeply a few more times, steadying himself. "It's nothing," he replied, hoping he sounded more reassuring than he felt. "I just…lost my balance there for a second. I jumped out of the Hummer too fast; wasn't watching where my feet were going." He gave a short laugh, hoping Calleigh would shrug the incident off as mere inelegance on his part.

Whether she was satisfied with his answer or she was still uncomfortable from before, Eric couldn't tell. She was speaking to him about the scene again as they made their way inside, but her voice seemed so far away, almost as though she were merely whispering to him.

Inside the house, they parted ways, and Eric found himself in the kitchen. It was an eastern facing room, and the sunlight that glared in through the windows was just as bad as that which had tried so desperately to impede his driving. Now in the kitchen, it seemed to mock him even more, just daring him to try and escape. His constant squinting was building the tension between his eyes, adding to the slowly growing ache that was progressively engulfing his entire head.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and just steadied his breathing, focusing his thoughts around one central protagonist, the heroine in the scenes that played out in his dreams, both day and night.

_Calleigh._ If he concentrated his thoughts on her and her alone, maybe he could stave off the attack that seemed all but imminent. It was a trick of his that he had learned after about the fifth attack – if he concentrated his thoughts on something pleasant, sometimes it kept the pain from being as debilitating as it could be. After all, how could anything be completely terrible when he had Calleigh's smile, her laugh to pull him through?

Eric couldn't help but smile at the very thought. Through the first weeks after the shooting, Calleigh had unknowingly been the single force that had pulled him through the darkest nights, the dreariest days. During the nights that the pain medication wasn't enough to dull the throb in his head, it was the thoughts of Calleigh that lulled him into sleep, soothing his mind and calming his body.

A wave of dizziness struck him, and Eric quickly reached out to the table to keep his balance. Already his heart was pounding rapidly in his chest; he knew what was coming. The dull ache that lasted for hours, the slight spells of dizziness, the double vision…there was only one thing it could mean. It meant the dull ache was not just an ordinary headache. It was, and would become, one of _those_ headaches.

But what could he do about that now? He had work to do, and if he wanted to get out of here at a decent time, he needed to keep at it. And he needed to do his fair share of the work; the last thing Eric wanted was for Calleigh to put in overtime because he couldn't finish his part of the job.

Taking a few deep breaths, Eric moved slowly about the kitchen, taking note of anything that seemed out of place. But there really wasn't anything that seemed out of place; the kitchen was spotless and overly organized. In fact, there was only one object that caught his eye, just as he'd begun to head into the living room.

It was there in his peripheral vision, the faintest glimmer from beneath the table. Camera in hand, he kneeled, taking a visual inventory of the tiny ring. The tiny diamonds flickered in the light, and if they hadn't caught his eye, Eric might never have noticed the ring, not in his slightly distracted state. Lifting the camera to his eyes, he snapped a few photos of the ring.

And then, it hit him out of nowhere. His vision blurred, leaving him feeling as though he were lost in a dense fog. He blinked several times, but only to no avail. Shakily he set the camera down and not a moment too soon, for at that very moment, the pain crashed into him, consuming him like wildfire.

Eric cursed loudly, his eyes squinting closed as his entire being seemed to erupt in agony. He'd known it was coming; the usual warning signs had all been there, but he'd ignored every single one of them. What else could he do? It wasn't like he had the luxury of taking a break every time his head gave a little twinge of pain. Sure, the attacks were coming less and less frequently these days, but it was still far too often.

And when they did occur, the result was the same debilitating pain. His knuckles white, Eric gripped the edge of the table for support, knowing that were he not already on his knees, it wouldn't be long before he found his way there.

Clutching the side of his head with his other hand, Eric forced himself to breathe deeply, though it did nothing to soothe the pain he felt. He closed his eyes, but the bright lights dancing in his vision were only slightly dulled; in fact, they seemed to dance even more brightly on the back of his eyelids. Closing his eyes brought forth another issue – it made him dizzier than he already was.

His stomach lurched, though whether from pain or vertigo, Eric had no idea. He was beyond comprehension right now; all that he could concentrate on was the silent, repeating plea for the pain to ease, for some kind of alleviation, anything. His head felt as though it were on fire; burning, searing agony. His eyes stung with the salty prickle of moisture, though he dared not open his eyes to let it escape. The bright sunlight filtering through the windows would be like a dagger to his eyes, a pain worse than the annoying prickle of pain-induced tears.

He had no idea how much time had passed, only that it felt like forever. Vaguely, almost as though from a vast distance, his ears caught the softest whisper of his name. Desperately he held onto that, knowing it was something pleasant to concentrate on – how could the soft, Southern lilt possibly be anything but pleasant? It was something to offset the agony that had become all he could concentrate on, and the more closely he listened, the closer it seemed. The pain had not begun to ease yet, but already was Eric feeling just the tiniest bit better.

And then he felt the hands on his shoulders; a grip that was strong, yet gentle at the same time. The soft, sweet aroma of her perfume wafted to his nose, but this time, the pain was so strong that he couldn't allow himself to enjoy it. In fact, it was almost too much, a reality which he hated dearly to admit.

A few more agonizing moments finally came to pass, bringing with them the first clear sign that the pain was beginning to lessen. His grip on the table loosened, just enough that he could feel one of Calleigh's soft hands closing over the top of it, squeezing gently. "Hold on, Eric," she murmured, a badly concealed note of panic in her voice. "I'll call for help, okay?"

She started to stand, but Eric quickly released the table above him, his hand clasping tightly to Calleigh's. "No," he whispered, fairly steadily for the amount of pain he was in. "It – it'll pass."

His teeth were clenched, and though her instincts told her she needed to get him some help, she obliged his request, trusting his assessment despite the wave of fear that had taken her over. After all, he knew better about it than she did. "Are you sure?" she asked softly, feeling his hand shake just ever slightly. A thin sheen of sweat had broken on his forehead, belying the amount of pain he was truly in. "Eric–"

"I'll be fine, Cal," he forced out, attempting for the first time to open his eyes. They were cloudy, unfocused as he trained his gaze downward, to the unmoving floor below. To look at anything that moved too much would be too much for his already nauseated stomach.

He was sick of this. Sick of the attacks of sudden, debilitating pain. Sick of the helplessness he felt as he could do nothing but ride out the pain, just praying it would pass. Sick of not being able to do his job as confidently as he once had. His life had been changed drastically, and there was no telling how long the side effects of that would stick around.

They _were_ getting less and less prevalent, but if this attack was any indication, they were still there, lurking beneath the shadows, waiting for Eric to let his defenses down and fall victim to it once again. Unable to hold it back, Eric gave a low groan, feeling the aftermath of his attack begin to set in; the post-agony pain that wasn't really _pain_, exactly, but more of a lingering, dull ache that would persist for hours.

Calleigh frowned, gently touching his cheek with her other hand. "Hey. Look at me," she demanded softly, allowing her fingers to move of their own volition, softly stroking his cheek. His skin was clammy to the touch, and Calleigh bit her lip as a cold block of anxiety settled in her stomach. Her heart had yet to return to its timely, predictable rhythm, instead holding tightly to the quickened, erratic pace it had adopted as she'd first stepped into the kitchen.

Her soft hand on his cheek granted him such a deep sense of comfort; a comfort that rose quickly as the depth of his pain began to lessen, just as it always did. It was just that the time between when the pain started and when the pain ended felt nothing short of an eternity. Only partly reluctantly, Eric met Calleigh's deep, concerned eyes. As the pain began to fade, a looming sense of embarrassment moved in to take its place. He didn't want Calleigh to see him like this; helpless, broken.

His eyes remained disoriented, misty with lingering pain, and Calleigh felt her heart ache for him. If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that Eric didn't deserve any of this. He was too good of a person, too decent of a man to be going through all of this. It seemed as though he could never catch a break, and it just wasn't fair. "Oh, Eric," she murmured, watching as at once he averted his gaze. "You want to tell me what happened?"

Her voice was so inviting, and really, she didn't even need to ask for him to want to tell her everything. But this was…there was just something about this that was different. And, if he were able to admit it to himself, he knew exactly what it was. Calleigh's attention, her concern – it felt nice. There was no greater high than that of knowing that she cared for him.

But did she _care_, or was it pity?

And that was what it came down to – he was tired of the pity. From friends, coworkers, everybody - he didn't want people to look at him like that anymore.

There was no way to know if Calleigh would care about him like this if he _didn't_ have a bullet lodged in his brain. Would she look at him like that? Would she touch him like this?

It wasn't an answer he would ever find. And maybe, as he thought of the pain he'd gone through over the past year, perhaps it was best that he didn't find the answer.

And besides, who was to say that he still would've fallen so hard for her if he hadn't been shot? It had changed a lot of things in his life; if not for that, he might've still been the same Eric he'd been for years.

Calleigh already knew the answer to her inquiry, though Eric's silence cemented it for her. She'd seen him like this once before, and she was just as frightened this time as she'd been the first time. There was little more frightening than the sight of her best and dearest friend on the ground, his body wracked with agony. "How bad is it?" she asked softly, searching for his eyes.

Stoically, Eric slowly shook his head, wincing as even the slightest movement sent a sharp jab of pain through his head. He avoided her eyes skillfully, knowing that she would see right through him when he answered. "I'm alright…" he muttered, the words sounding foreign and unnecessarily rough to his sensitized ears.

And really, it wasn't _completely_ a lie. He _was_ alright; he knew he would be. Eric could keep his eyes open now, even though they still stung. His stomach no longer felt as though it was ready to rebel against him, and slowly but surely, his heartbeat was returning to normal. The worst of it was over, thank God. Another moment or two, and Eric knew he could stand again. "I'm okay," he repeated, more confidently than before, though he was unsure of who he was hoping to convince.

Either way, Calleigh wasn't convinced. She swallowed the lump of anxiety that had blocked her throat, knowing her voice would be slightly hoarse as she spoke again. "Eric, when I came in here…" she hesitated, watching as Eric's eyes flickered ever quickly to hers. "That was…you weren't okay. You were kneeling and clutching your head in pain. With that bullet–"

Eric cut her off. He'd known it was inevitable, but that direction was the last place he wanted this conversation to go. "I'm fine, Calleigh," he said one more time, his voice steady. "It was nothing, really." Dismissively, he waved off her concern, quickly releasing her hand. This was the part he hated the most about this whole ordeal – the constant concern, the questions, the eyes all on him.

With a deep breath, Eric gripped the table and pulled himself to his feet, finding himself still a bit unsteady, but relatively pain-free now. Calleigh gaped up at him, her eyes conveying her utter disbelief. "Eric, _nothing_ was the shard of glass I got in my finger when we were sifting through the remains of that burned house over a year ago," she argued, slightly surprised that _that _was the first memory that came to mind. "That was hardly life-threatening, and yet you still thought it was _something_."

Eric gazed down at her, and while he was touched by the look in her beautiful green eyes, he couldn't help but want desperately to move past this. "That was different," he said quietly, although he knew as well as she did that his argument held no water. Calleigh opened her mouth to refute, but knowing what was coming, Eric once more cut her off. "It doesn't matter now anyway. I'm fine. I can do my job without compromising any evidence."

Calleigh frowned, fighting the urge to fidget with her hands. "Do you really think it's the job I'm worried about?" she asked, a bit more emotion behind the words than she'd intended. Looking away, she took a deep breath and attempted to steady herself, knowing her frustration was starting to affect her. Her emotions had been on such a short string for months now; she was still finding it difficult to control those emotions, another lingering effect that Jake had left her with - another lingering effect with no apparent end in sight. "This is about _you_, Eric, not the job; and I just…I care, okay?"

Still he remained silent, and Calleigh was unable to deny the hurt she felt at the thought that he couldn't talk to her. But on the flipside, she was also unable to ignore the nagging reality that went along with it – their roles had suddenly been reversed. How many times had Eric invited her to open up to him? And how many times had she refused? Calleigh knew not the exact numbers, but what she did know was that they were irrevocably equal. The guilt she felt as the realization hit her was strong, but not strong enough to offset the concern she still felt for him. "You can tell me anything, Eric, and it stays between us. I promise."

"There's nothing to tell," Eric insisted, wishing she would just let the subject drop. "I'm okay." He attempted to smile in reassurance, though he was sure it came across as more of a grimace. "Seriously." Pointing back to the table, he allowed Calleigh's eyes to follow before he spoke again. "I was taking pictures of that ring down there – it could be evidence. I just – I raised up too quickly and bumped my head on the table," he lied, rather badly. He'd never been able to perfect lying to Calleigh.

Only affording the ring a passing glance, Calleigh rose to her feet, biting her lip as she studied Eric closely. "You merely bumped your head on the table…" she repeated quietly, the disbelief plain in her voice.

Also plain was the fleeting glimmer of hurt that flashed through her eyes at his lie, and Eric sighed deeply, knowing no greater guilt than the kind that came attached to hurting her in any way. Immediately he felt terrible, though he made no move to close the distance that had somehow formed between them. "Calleigh –"

"No," she interjected, an audible edge to her voice. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it _is_ nothing. And maybe it would've been nothing if it had happened while you were driving us over here too."

"But it didn't, Calleigh." He couldn't help it; despite all his efforts not to, Eric found himself growing angry. Calleigh didn't understand it – none of them could truly understand what this whole ordeal was like, and he would say every necessary prayer to make sure that they never did. The last thing he _ever_ wanted was to see anyone he cared about in the same situation he was in.

"But it _could!_" Her green eyes were unreadable, and Eric suddenly found himself thrown back into the memory of the last time she'd witnessed one of these attacks. It seemed like an eternity ago, and Eric found himself wishing this time were more like the first – the aftermath of the pain had been so much easier to deal with after feeling her lips moving slowly, deliberately against his. Even now, his lips tingled, wanting her once again.

Licking his lips, Eric forced his mind back to the present, and along with that came a fresh surge of anger. "They're predictable, Calleigh," he said quietly, just barely holding his temper at her masked accusation. "I know when I'm about to have an attack – they don't just come on suddenly." He paused, holding her gaze unerringly for a moment, leaving out the fact that he'd known this was coming since he'd woken up that morning. "If I knew one was imminent, I wouldn't have driven. I – I wouldn't have put you in that kind of danger."

The low tone of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, but resolutely Calleigh ignored it, focusing on a different picture. "You just keep confusing me more and more," she said with a rueful chuckle. "You know they're coming, but you stay at work anyway, knowing what they do to you?"

"I don't have the luxury of going home and laying down every time I get one," Eric all but snapped. Softening his voice at the look in her eyes, he continued. "I'm out of sick days, Calleigh. Completely. I don't have an endless supply saved up like you do. I used all mine for the days after the shooting, and appointments with more doctors than anybody should ever have to see. And even if I had the extra days, I couldn't use them. My paycheck isn't completely mine, remember?"

It was still just incomprehensible to her. Shaking her head in confusion, she stared at him, running a hand through her hair. "This is dangerous, Eric," she declared quietly, ignoring the desire to take a step closer to him. "You're playing with death here."

Eric gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. He'd heard the same thing time and time again from his doctor, from his therapist. But what other choice did he have? He needed the money; he needed to work. "May the best man win, then," he replied, only half joking.

"Damn it, Eric!" Calleigh hissed, turning her back to him. The mere fact that he could joke about this made her angrier than she'd been in weeks. He had almost died – still _could_ die, technically – and he was willing to take that risk every single day? It made very little sense to her, and as she turned once more to face him, her eyes were hard, cold. "Maybe they are predictable, but you never know where you might be, or what you might be doing when you start getting the warning signs," she said, the _slightest_ tremble present in her words. "You could actually _die_ –"

"You don't think I know that, Cal?" His voice was raised, even though the extra volume, the extra effort made the aftermath of his headache tingle even more. "You don't think I live with that fear every day?" It was a fear he hadn't voiced outside of the seclusion of his therapy sessions, but now, he couldn't stop it from making itself known. "You don't think I second guess every single move I make, not knowing whether or not it might shift that damn bullet? You don't think I wake up every morning and wonder if it'll be my last?" He paused, fire in his eyes as he took a deep breath. "It scares me to death, the way this thing has taken over my life. I can't do _anything_ without worrying about the ramifications. If a little headache every now and then is the worst of the side effects, then I consider that a blessing."

His words stunned her to the core, and Calleigh swallowed, lifting a shaky hand to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. "You know, I thought you told me a long time ago that the headaches were getting better…"

"They're not every day anymore."

"How often?" she challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Calleigh –"

But Calleigh had had enough. "How often?" she repeated, her tone quieter, more serious.

Eric gave a deep sigh, recounting the most recent attacks of pain. He didn't see what the big deal was; his doctor had said it was normal for him to experience residual bouts of pain – the problem to look out for was if they increased in frequency. But his hadn't. They'd decreased just as they were supposed to. "Once, maybe twice a month now."

"Twice a month." Calleigh shook her head, biting at her lip so forcefully that it wasn't too long before she perceived the metallic taste of blood. "And you didn't think you should let somebody know? So they could watch out for you?"

"I thought I'd done that when I told Horatio, like my doctor said I should." The words were so simple as they tumbled from his lips, but Eric could already foresee Calleigh's reaction.

She wasn't prepared for the feelings that hit her as he revealed that he'd gone to Horatio, and not to her. It stung; it really did. He'd told her time and time again that she was one of his closest friends, and they worked together practically every day. "Horatio isn't the one in the field with you all the time," she said quietly, for the first time really feeling the pain she knew she must've put him through, all those times he'd wished she would talk to him. Were they really not as close as she'd always believed? Would there forever remain a rift filled with secrets between them? "Why didn't you talk to me?"

Eric bit at the inside of his cheek, knowing he was getting closer and closer to saying something he would regret later. "Because maybe it was none of your concern," he began quietly, though the force behind his words was unmistakable. "Maybe you had enough going on in your own life; too much to be spending your time concerned about me."

"Why didn't you let me decide that?"

"Did _Jake_ let you decide that?"

It was a low blow, and Eric knew that. The words, a product of his pain-induced frustration, were out of his mouth before he could bite his tongue, and the flicker of pain that flashed through Calleigh's eyes went straight to his own heart. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Eric wondering if maybe he'd just imagined it. "Jake – Jake has nothing to do with this," Calleigh replied quietly, her tone deeming the conversation closed.

Eric scoffed lightly, watching as she turned her back to him. "Really?" he called after her, even though knowing he shouldn't. He'd gotten what he wanted – Calleigh didn't want to talk anymore. But somehow, that only rubbed him wrong even more. Probably because of _why_ she was suddenly so willing to drop the subject. "Because I think this has everything to do with Jake."

As Calleigh whipped around again, she couldn't quite hide the anger in her emerald eyes. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, the mere mention of his name catching her completely off guard. "There is nothing about this – this situation that is about Jake," she said quietly, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. "This is about you –"

"And why I didn't talk to you?" Eric finished, more venom in his voice than he had intended. "See, that is _exactly_ where Jake fits into this." He paused, taking in the expressions, the emotions flitting across Calleigh's face. He was definitely treading on thin – if not already broken – ice. But he still couldn't help the bitterness he harbored for the other man, for everything he had done to Calleigh. She didn't deserve to hurt.

What he didn't comprehend though in that moment, was that he was doing the exact same thing to her with his words. "Why is it okay when Jake doesn't tell you the whole story?" Calleigh's face paled almost imperceptibly, and Eric's heart ached. He wanted to apologize, but in his current state of frustration, his anger won out. "Why is it okay for him to lie to you, to beat around the bush with you, to all but _abandon _you when it gets too much for him? Why is it okay for him to have his secrets, but everything about me has to be out in the open?"

For a moment, Calleigh was silent, his words hitting her square in the chest. "That's not fair, Eric," she said quietly, her mouth dry. She was stunned at his accusations; that was the only word for it. Her heart was aching, burning, _tearing_ as she felt a wound reopened again, one that she was still unable to suture completely.

"Isn't it?" he shot back, his own heart pounding so loudly that it echoed angrily in his ears. "His secrets are the ones you should be worried about, because they hurt _you_. He's the one who should've been telling you everything, and he didn't. I know he lied to you, Calleigh, more than once. I just want to know why that's okay. Why am I the only one who isn't allowed to keep something private?"

And for that, Calleigh had no answer. Eyes downcast, she bit at her lip, unable not to concede to Eric's point. "I'm sorry, Eric…" she murmured, only barely audible. "I just…"

"Calleigh." And now his voice had softened as well. "This is hard enough to deal with on my own," he admitted, shuffling his feet slightly. "If it was something that I thought – you know, something that would ever actually…affect you, I would tell you. You know that."

Calleigh lifted her eyes, no longer bothering to hide the hurt found within. "You don't think it would affect me if – if something happened and you just…suddenly collapsed and…" she shuddered, unable to finish as the memory of one of her many nightmares came back to haunt her.

Eric took a slow step toward her, suddenly feeling more guilty than he had in a long time. "Cal…"

"No, you're – you're right," Calleigh interrupted, and to Eric's dismay, she took a step back. "It's just that, when I came in here and saw you doubled over like that, I immediately thought…" she trailed off, but Eric didn't need her to continue to know what she had thought. She hesitated, and it was all Eric could do not to move forward and take her into his arms. She looked so vulnerable to him right now, and every last piece of his anger had completely melted away. "I just – I was just worried, okay? And I –" Again she hesitated, her gaze drifting slowly toward the door and away from him, and Eric knew she was planning her escape.

Shaking her head, Calleigh gave a sheepish smile before reaching up to tuck a lock of blonde behind her ear. Eric knew she was fighting an internal battle, though it wasn't apparent to him what that battle was – fight or flight seemed to be a major component of it, though.

The distance between them seemed to have grown tenfold – when had Calleigh moved so dangerously close to the doorway? Her arms remained crossed tightly over her chest, and she refused to meet Eric's eyes. For a moment, she simply steadied herself, and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet and reserved. Her words, however, rang loud and clear in Eric's ears.

"I just - I don't know what I would do without you in my life."

And before Eric could even begin to formulate a response, Calleigh had disappeared from the kitchen, leaving behind only the soft scent of her perfume and the continuous echo of her heartfelt admission.


	37. Words on Paper

**_Chapter Thirty-Seven  
Words on Paper  
-_**

The autopsy theater was cold; it always was, but today it made no difference to Calleigh. Usually twenty minutes would be long enough to have her shivering, glad for the flimsy lab coat that provided some covering to her arms, but today, it seemed not even that chill could get to her. Her mind was far too preoccupied; so much so, that not even the particulars of the case seemed to penetrate her.

Her ears caught the words as Alexx spoke, but they were lost somewhere in the transport to her brain. She was hearing them, and she knew she would recall them later when the time called for it, but at the moment, cause of death just simply was not her biggest concern.

Her biggest concern, against her better judgment, remained in the field. He'd insisted he was fine, and thus Calleigh had come back to the lab with some of the evidence and to check in with Alexx.

But now, she couldn't help worrying about him. He was out there alone, after all. What if he had another attack like he'd had earlier? What if he collapsed? Or what if he made a little misstep and fell, hitting his head and dislodging the bullet? They were all possibilities that were far too possible for Calleigh's liking, and she couldn't help but give a small shudder.

Vaguely Calleigh heard her name being called. Mentally she shook her head, shaking herself out of her thoughts, knowing it would be easier if she could feel something other than the numbness that tingled in her fingers. Her body moved automatically; her mind had no idea what she was doing until she'd reached a gloved hand out, taking the recovered bullet from Alexx.

She turned the bullet in her hands, examining all its striations and grooves and coming to a conclusion much faster than anybody else could've ever begun to think on it – after all, she wasn't called the Bullet Girl for nothing. "It's a nine-mil round," she said quietly, pursing her lips in thought.

"You sound disappointed," Alexx observed, watching Calleigh's face. Disappointment, sure. But there was something else there that was playing with the other woman's emotions – Alexx had realized that as soon as Calleigh had stepped into the room. It was easy to tell when something was going on with her; the problem, however, was discerning exactly _what._ Calleigh wasn't likely to share that, most often, and she wasn't the easiest of the CSIs to read.

Calleigh sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I had a suspect…but the gun I put in his hands was a Glock." Eyes downward, Calleigh slowly placed the bullet in a small evidence bag, her mind drifting back to the comment Eric had made earlier in the morning. "So much for an easy day."

Alexx chuckled. "You should've known better than that anyway," she berated teasingly, to her delight pulling a small smile from Calleigh. "Anyway, that's all I've got for you right now. If I find anything else interesting about this guy, I'll page you."

"Thanks, Alexx," Calleigh replied softly, but she made no move to walk away. A thought – or several, really – had just occurred to her. Not only was Alexx a friend Calleigh could trust with almost everything, she was also a doctor – she'd gone through medical school just like any other practicing physician.

She needed beyond anything else reassurance that Eric was okay.

She also needed simply to talk to somebody, before the fears and worries creeping up within her began to consume her completely.

Alexx quickly noticed Calleigh's unsettledness, and immediately her attention shifted from the body on the table – he wouldn't go anywhere, after all – to the blonde on the other side of the table who looked poised for flight at any moment. "Calleigh?" she asked gently.

Calleigh hesitated, biting at the inside of her cheek. On the one hand, she knew she should probably keep her mouth shut. Eric had kept this to himself for a reason; if he'd wanted the knowledge of his struggles out in the open, he would've put them out there himself.

But on the other hand, Calleigh's concern for his health far outweighed any qualms she had about breaking his privacy. The morbid truth crossed her mind – Eric would have no say in his privacy one way or the other if he were to die – and Calleigh found herself fighting back more than just a mere shudder. The idea of losing him sickened her, and discreetly she took in a few deep breaths, hoping to calm the fear within.

Her eyes downcast, Calleigh fidgeted with the evidence bag in her hands, her eyes studying the contours of the bullet contained within. How could it be that something so small, so insignificant could change everything that a person had ever known? It wasn't something she had ever really questioned, not until it had been Eric.

She gave a deep sigh, lifting her eyes only momentarily to the woman before her. "Can I ask you something?" Calleigh breached the subject slowly, her discomfort with the subject shining brightly through. "As a doctor?"

And there it was. Alexx gave her a long look, studying the blonde's countenance. There was a paleness in her features that was more than Calleigh's naturally fair skin. It was an ill kind of pallor, and combined with the dullness in her usually bright emerald eyes, Alexx quickly ascertained that whatever it was, it was keeping Calleigh awake at night. Awake at night, and distracted during the day.

She had known something was different for awhile now, but Alexx hadn't said anything, knowing that Calleigh was going through a rough patch in her personal life. She'd wisely kept her distance, knowing that pushing the other woman wasn't going to help either one of them. If Calleigh needed it, she would reach out to her herself.

And it seemed to be exactly what she was doing now. "Of course you can, baby," Alexx replied softly, an inviting smile on her lips. It was a smile that grew thoughtful though as Calleigh continued to hesitate, seemingly searching for the words to voice a difficult subject. Unable to stop herself, Alexx ran through what she knew in her mind, attempting to put two and two together, assuming she and Calleigh were thinking along the same wavelength.

Calleigh just hadn't seemed herself in quite some time. There was the pallor and the exhaustion, and as Alexx studied the other woman's small frame, it seemed as though Calleigh had lost weight. Occasional nausea, perhaps? Stomach flu? It _had_ been going around the lab, but it wasn't exactly the diagnosis that danced around Alexx's brain.

Given her careful observations, as well as the occasional concerned inquiry from Eric proving that she wasn't the only one worried about their colleague, Alexx's first instinct was that Calleigh might be pregnant. After all, Alexx did see a lot in the other woman that had plagued herself not once but twice before.

But as Calleigh began to speak, Alexx found herself surprised and unusually wrong. "It's about…Eric," Calleigh began slowly, nibbling anxiously at her lip.

Alexx rested her hands on the table, tilting her head slightly as she regarded the blonde. "Eric?"

Calleigh nodded. "I've just – I mean, I don't –" Pausing, she shook her head, trying to find the words to express all the anxiety she held within. Her heart still skipped a beat as she thought back to the morning; as she once again saw Eric kneeling before her, clutching his head in agony.

She hadn't seen or spoken to him since she'd left him alone that morning, though she knew that if something had happened, she would know. Still, it didn't keep her from worrying. She gave a heavy shrug, glancing up to Alexx with worry plain in her eyes. "This morning, we were at a scene together, and he – he had this attack of pain…" She trailed off, using her energy instead to fight back a shudder. The fact remained that Eric had scared her, more than she would ever be willing to admit.

Alexx did not look surprised. Even with Calleigh's vague description, Alexx knew exactly what the other woman meant, having observed it once herself. "The fragment in his brain doesn't belong there, and his body knows that. It's something that's going to take time for his body to adjust to, Calleigh." She gave a deep sigh, mentally cataloguing just how affected Calleigh seemed to be. "It's somewhat like a splinter, I would assume. You can get used to it being there, and for awhile you can forget about it. But the moment you make a sudden move or attempt to dislodge it, it's going to hurt again."

What Alexx said made sense, but that didn't mean Calleigh felt any better about it. If anything, it only made her feel worse. "Does that mean that, what he went through this morning, he's going to have to deal with that for the rest of his life?"

It was a horrible sentence, one Calleigh would not wish upon anyone. Eric had been all but _debilitated_ with pain for a few minutes. And though it _was_ merely a few minutes' time, Calleigh was almost certain that for Eric, it felt more like an eternity.

Alexx thought for a moment, pensively nibbling at her lip. "It is…possible," she replied slowly, watching a myriad of emotion flit through Calleigh's eyes. "However, it is just as possible that the attacks will, in time, completely fade away."

Calleigh nodded slowly. "He _did_ say they were getting less frequent," she commented quietly, her eyes downcast. "It's just…when I walked in the kitchen and saw him doubled over like that…"

Alexx nodded. "It's frightening, isn't it?" She gave Calleigh a reassuring smile. "It's part of his recovery process. Pain, memory problems, even the occasional hallucination – they're all to be expected. The important thing is that he _is_ seeing his doctor regularly. His doctor knows about every bit of this."

"I know," Calleigh sighed, fidgeting with her fingers. "I guess it's just…the shooting. It was over a year ago."

"It was, Calleigh," Alexx said gently. "And look at all the progress he's made since then. Think back for a moment, when he first came back to work. Look at the difference."

Again, Alexx had a point. When Eric had first come back to work, even Calleigh had been guilty of questioning whether or not he was ready. Small mistakes had been routine for him, and each one he made crushed his fragile resolve. Rookie mistakes, he had called them. On top of that, his motor skills had been slow at times; his eyesight sometimes played tricks with his mind.

It _was_ a vast difference to the Eric who worked beside her in the field now, and Calleigh couldn't deny it. But still it bothered her, enough to show through in her troubled green eyes.

Alexx gave a soft smile, reading Calleigh's concern effortlessly. "It's a process, baby," she said slowly, answering the unasked question. Her voice was as comforting as possible, and Calleigh was unable not to feel its effects. "A slow process. The bottom line right now is that he is better than he was a year ago. And in a year's time, he'll probably be better than he is today."

It was a moment before Calleigh spoke, seemingly steadying herself. "Will he ever…you know?" Calleigh swallowed the lump in her throat, embarrassed for the hoarseness in her voice. "Be where he was…before?"

"That's not something I can answer, honey."

Calleigh nodded, letting out a deep breath. "I'm still…worried about him…"

Alexx smiled. "And what kind of friend would you be if you weren't?" Calleigh gave a halfhearted shrug, and Alexx sighed, pulling off her gloves with an audible snap. "You're worried because you care," she said, her steps echoing as she walked around the table to where Calleigh stood. "You _don't_ want to see him hurting, or struggling with his recovery, or anything like that. You just want him better, which is what we all want."

She lay a comforting hand on Calleigh's arm, and Calleigh sighed deeply, giving a soft shake of her head. "You're right," she said quietly, though she still didn't meet the other woman's eyes. "I _know _he's hurting though, and it kills me to see him like that."

_Physically and emotionally,_ her mind added, once more issuing the guilt from which Calleigh just could not escape.

Alexx nodded, squeezing Calleigh's shoulder. "He scared me to death the one time I saw him like that," she revealed, and Calleigh couldn't help but lift her eyes toward the other woman. "It was just a couple weeks after he came back to work. And right here, in the morgue…"

She didn't need to continue, for Calleigh knew exactly where the story would lead. "He shouldn't have to go through all that," she whispered after a moment, her voice sounding more confident than she felt.

"I know, honey," Alexx replied, nodding in agreement. "But he does, and there's not much we can do about it. Except be there for him, of course."

It wasn't what Calleigh wanted to hear, but she couldn't deny that Alexx was right. The problem, though, was that Alexx's answer _was_ the problem. She'd tried to be there for him, hadn't she? And he'd pushed her away, claiming that all was well. Thinking back, it was a cycle that had been occurring for quite some time – after the first time he'd admitted having feelings for her.

Even as friends, he'd begun pulling away from her, and Calleigh hated it. She missed the strong foundation they'd once had, before everything had changed. Now, it just seemed that with every day that passed, Eric was slipping farther and farther away from her.

Or was she the one pushing him away? It was all so confusing, this bottomless pit she'd dug herself into. Calleigh was beginning to think – actually, she'd been thinking it for a long time now – that she would never find her way out of this.

"Something else is unsettling you," Alexx perceived in that way that only Alexx could.

And she was right, but it wasn't something that Calleigh could put into voiced words. Even if she could, sharing it seemed out of the question. "It's just…a lot of different things," Calleigh conceded, shrugging her shoulders.

Alexx lifted a brow. "Jake?"

"Among other things, yes," Calleigh sighed. That, however, wasn't something she wanted to go into with anybody. Forcing a smile, she gestured toward the door with the hand that held the evidence bag. "I'm going to take this to my lab and see if I can get anything else from it," she said, taking a step back. "Thanks for…well. You know."

"You're welcome, honey." Alexx gave a quiet chuckle as she went back to her work, still amused at how far off she had been. "And here I thought there was something else bothering you," she added, shaking her head with another chuckle.

Calleigh tilted her head, and to her surprise a grin of her own formed upon her lips. "Like what?"

"It's nothing, really," Alexx said with a grin. "To be honest, when you said you wanted to ask me something as a doctor, I actually thought you were coming to me because you thought you might be pregnant."

For the first time in what felt far too long, Calleigh gave a full, genuine laugh. "Pregnant?"

Alexx smirked. "Ridiculous?"

"Only extremely." Calleigh grinned. "I needed the laugh, though."

"Well, at least you got something out of my rare mistake," Alexx teased.

Calleigh chuckled, shaking her head as once more she began her trek out. "Thanks again, Alexx. I'll see you later."

**..**

Not a moment too soon, Eric found himself at his locker, glad for the end of another shift. The pain in his head had subsided almost completely, and Eric had even been able to muster a few genuine smiles throughout the day. Despite that, he still knew that he wouldn't be one hundred percent again – or as close as he'd been recently – until he made it home and into bed for several hours.

With a yawn, Eric reached for his keys in the back of his locker, but as soon as his hand cleared the threshold, the keys slipped from his grasp, falling loudly to the ground below.

"Damn it," Eric cursed quietly, taking a moment to flex his stiffened fingers. It was yet another of the unwelcome side effects of being shot – his motor skills still suffered from time to time. Luckily, though, that 'time to time' only occurred rarely.

He dreaded bending over to retrieve his keys, knowing the movement would cause a sudden rush of blood to his head. It would throb through his veins, coupling with the residual pain in his head. But then again, it was a gamble – risk a little more pain, or retrieve his keys so he could go home. It wasn't a difficult decision to make.

With a deep breath, Eric slowly bent down, his eyes closed as he made his slow descent.

But as he opened his eyes again, it wasn't his keys that caught Eric's gaze.

Just mere inches away from where his keys lay was a small, dusty envelope, hidden beneath the row of lockers. Without even thinking, Eric reached out for them both, gathering them tightly in his fingers as he rose once more to his feet. His keys were nearly forgotten as he blew the dust off the envelope, taking in the eight letters on the front of it, eight letters that made up the most euphonic name of all in Eric's ears.

He recognized immediately the untidy scrawl on the front of it, having intercepted one of his notes once before. Turning the envelope in his hands, Eric felt its weight – this was more than just a simple note. It felt even thicker than the letters he received from family back in Cuba during the holidays. And as he turned it once more, Eric noticed in the low light something that set his curiosity once more aflame.

The envelope itself was not sealed. The flap hung loosely open, revealing all too obviously the contents within.

He _knew_ he shouldn't.

It went against _everything_ his mother had _ever_ taught him; it went against every lesson in etiquette that he'd ever received from his _abuela._ And he _knew_ beyond everything else that, were the contents within as serious as they seemed, Calleigh would never forgive him.

He should ignore the temptation and instead slip the letter in her locker. Or, maybe even deliver it to her personally, since he hadn't seen her at all since the debacle at the crime scene that morning. It would serve the dual purpose of giving her the letter, and of letting her know that he _was_ in fact okay.

But that was logic. And logic had since given way to a burning curiosity within him. Before Eric fully even realized it, he was teasing the paper out of the envelope, his heart pounding as he unfolded the pages of the letter. He _knew_ this was wrong, knew it with everything in him. But even all that knowledge seemingly wasn't enough to stop him. He took one last secretive glance around, making sure he was fully alone.

And then, he dove in.

_Once upon a time, you told me that the only thing I was scared of was failure. I'm not entirely sure if that's what I'm afraid of most right now – all I know is that this is quite possibly the most cowardly thing I have ever done. But at this point, I'm out of options. You won't hear me out, and I don't blame you. I wouldn't give me the chance either._

Jake Berkeley, admitting that an action of his was cowardly? If anything, that merely stoked the ever growing fire of Eric's curiosity. To be honest, Eric didn't really know Jake all that well at all, nor did he have the desire to know him, but from what he _did_ know, there was nothing in the other man's nature that Jake himself would admit was cowardly.

It struck him then, just how alike both Jake and Calleigh were. They were both stubborn, steadfast in their ways, unwilling to back down when they thought they were right. So unwilling to admit defeat, weakness, fear. And also, if the written words were any indication, failure.

_So_ alike.

And Eric was the odd man out. The thought was almost enough to have him shoving the letter back into the envelope with disgust.

Almost.

_You deserve to be told all this in person, not in a letter. I should have told you in the very beginning, but I was convinced that it wouldn't come to this. I thought I could take care of it; I thought I could do it without losing you again. But yet again, I failed. So many times I failed you, and you can't even begin to know the regret I hold over that. _

_I'm sorry. I know I can say that over and over, and it won't mean a thing because you've heard it from me so many times before. I just wish there was something I could do this time, something I could say so you could know how much I truly mean it. I'm sorry for everything._

_The last thing I ever, ever wanted to do was hurt you._

"But you did," Eric murmured, his bitter words echoing impossibly loudly in the empty room. Bitter, yes, but there was something that the words lacked. Conviction, perhaps? The words on the page were full of such heartache, heartache that not even Eric could deny.

_My actions, all my lies – they're nothing less than inexcusable. But if I had the chance to go back, I'd probably do things the same way, only for one reason. Everything I ever did, I did it for you. I don't expect you to believe or even fully understand that – how could everything I did be for you if all I ever did was hurt you? _

_You told me that some things would never change; that I would never choose to step out for you. If that were my only choice; if it was the only one I ever had to make, I would've done it in a heartbeat for you. Every minute that I was away from you was nothing less than sheer torment. As I write this, you have no idea how badly I'm missing you. Your smile, your laugh, your sweet perfume – everything. _

_Over ten years ago, the first day that I locked eyes with you, the first day that you spoke my name – that very first day at the academy was the day I fell in love with you. _

And that was the confession that nearly brought Eric to his knees. He'd suspected it once, twice at the most – the fact that Jake had genuine feelings for Calleigh, that she wasn't just one in a long list of conquests for him.

He'd never wanted to apply the word _love_ before though – how could anybody ever feel the same about Calleigh as Eric did? Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Eric shook his head, attempting to convince himself that they were just words on paper. Actionless words on paper. But even as he told himself that, Eric couldn't deny that with every line, Jake was looking more and more like a worthy opponent, maybe even…

No. Eric wouldn't go there, not yet. But it was hard not to, even as he skimmed – couldn't bear to read every word – the rest of the first page, the CSI in him taking in every little misplaced penstroke, indicative of a trembling hand. Eric could ignore it all he wanted, but it was plain that Jake's words came from the heart.

_You are beautiful, stunning, and just downright amazing, and I know I never did anything to deserve you. _

_You deserve so much better than me. _

_All I'm asking now is for the chance to tell you everything, even if I have to do it like this. If I never come back to you – _

The thought stretched to the end of the page, but before Eric could turn it, he was startled by the loud thud of the door. His heart stopped momentarily – what if it was Calleigh? She would know immediately that something was up; Eric couldn't hide anything from her _that_ well.

Hastily, he shoved the letter and the envelope in his jacket, taking advantage of the inside pocket just as a voice called out to him. But luckily, it was not Calleigh who greeted him, but Wolfe instead. "Hey, Delko."

Relieved, Eric returned the greeting, for a moment amusing himself at the irony. Never before had he thought he'd rather run into Wolfe instead of Calleigh, but this had turned out to be the one time, apparently. "You headed out?"

Wolfe nodded. "Finally. It's been a long day," he said, opening his locker.

"That it has," Eric agreed, giving a low chuckle. "Can't wait to get out of here."

"Yeah, me either." Rummaging through his locker, Wolfe glanced to Eric as he spoke again. "Hey, you wanna grab something to eat or something? I haven't eaten all day."

To his surprise, Eric found his stomach growling at the mere mention of food. Throughout most of the day, the prospect of nausea had kept his hunger at bay, but now that it had been several hours since he had eaten, his hunger was beginning to make itself known.

Discreetly he patted at the envelope in his pocket, knowing he could easily wait a long time before looking through it again. "You know, that actually sounds good," he replied, closing his own locker.

"Yeah?" Wolfe looked to him, smiling. "I know this little place, got the best burgers I've ever had…"

Eric smirked. "Then why are we still here?"

**..**

A burger, an order of fries, and some surprisingly not-unwelcome companionship later, Eric pushed his way through his front door, tossing his keys on the table as he made his way inside. Turning on the light, he reached into his pocket for the letter he'd retrieved from the locker room floor.

But this time, as he turned it in his hands, he couldn't help but feel an almost crushing sense of guilt, not only for reading part of it, but also for bringing it home when he should've left it for Calleigh to find. The letter felt somehow different in his hands now; heavier, less appealing. Just the thought of opening it again put a sour taste in Eric's mouth.

His conscience had caught up to him, it seemed.

Even though his privacy would now be perfectly uninterrupted, Eric could not bring himself to reopen the letter in his hands.


	38. Complicated Indecision

**_Chapter Thirty-Eight_**  
_**Complicated Indecision**  
-**  
**_

_Darkness. It covered Calleigh's eyes before she could protest, stealing away her sight. But it wasn't exactly _that_ kind of darkness. There was a warmth that accompanied it, a warmth and a scent that only added to the perfection that decorated her day. Their day._

_And as her eyes adjusted, Calleigh could tell that it wasn't total darkness at all – she could perceive the tiniest bit of sunlight shining through the cracks in the barrier, the tiny spaces in between her husband's fingers as his hands clasped together to cover her eyes, his arms reaching around her head from behind. "Close your eyes," he whispered, his voice just barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing on the shoreline just mere steps away._

_Calleigh couldn't help but giggle at his whispered command. "Why?" she drawled, feeling her body automatically lean back against him. "I can't see anything anyway with your hands over my eyes."_

_He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver racing the length of Calleigh's spine. "I don't trust you to keep 'em closed," he smirked, and Calleigh couldn't help but feel indignant. But before she could protest, she felt a slow kiss at her temple, so innocent, yet intimate enough to take her breath away at the same time. "Just focus," he whispered, though on what he gave no indication. _

_But though she knew not what he was getting at, Calleigh couldn't help but let herself oblige him. It was almost seductive, the tone in which he spoke, and Calleigh felt any defiance she'd had melt away. Her sight removed from her, all the sounds that surrounded her seemed magnified at least tenfold. She could hear the impatient calls of the seagulls as they glided over the ocean in the distance, searching for their lunch. She could easily hear the gentle in and out of her husband's breath as he held her close, and if she listened hard enough, Calleigh liked to think she could hear the rhythmic beat of his heart – she knew she could feel it, if only because she knew her own heart beat in sync with his. The steady crash of the breakers along the shoreline elicited shouts and laughter from the children playing in the shallows, among which she could pick out one certain voice, one particular giggle – that of her daughter. The sound made her smile even wider than she already was, and Calleigh let out a deep sigh, relaxing, though not completely – she still didn't really _enjoy_ not being able to see._

_"What do you feel?" that seductive voice asked, his breath warm against her ear. Calleigh bit at her lip, willing her knees not to tremble violently, even though they were sitting. Was it possible for him to ask a more unanswerable question? Her body felt alive with sensation, each and every nerve ending tingling with feelings that mixed together, melding into something indecipherable as anything other than pure bliss._

_The sand was warm and soft beneath her toes, in addition to providing a nearly pillow-soft padding beneath the towel upon which they sat – cuddled was a better description, actually. Her body fit snugly between his tanned legs, her back flush against his bare chest. Her blonde locks tumbled over her right shoulder in waves, tickling her skin as it danced in the gentle sea breeze. And the sun from above warmed her, her body shimmering in the light. The scents of summer assaulted her nose – the sea, the salty air, the sweet aroma of coconut oil…it all relaxed her, leaving her utterly content to stay forever right where she was, on the beach, in the arms of the man she loved._

_And now his lips were caressing her temple, and Calleigh hadn't even realized that he'd dropped his hands from her eyes. But still her eyelids remained closed, leaving Calleigh lost in a daydream with a tiny smile upon her lips. She gave a deep sigh, feeling not an ounce of tension in any part of her body. Her heart was so close to bursting with happiness; it seemed impossible that she could feel any more._

_And yet, that was exactly what she felt in the next moment. His arms looped around her body, holding her close, his breath warm against her ear. "I love you," he murmured, his voice that perfect mix of quiet and rough that sent her heart racing and her breath hitching. _

_The smile on her lips quickly grew from tiny to monumental, and yet another contented sigh, almost a quiet moan, tumbled from her lips. "I love you, too," she whispered, slowly allowing her eyes to flutter open once more._

_But as soon as her eyes were open, by maternal instinct they searched quickly for the little blonde in the sparkly bathing suit, the one she'd begged and begged to have. And quickly, Calleigh found the little girl, and immediately she felt her body tense. The sight before her seemed so far away from where she sat now, cuddled in her husband's arms on the plush, oversized beach towel._

_Logically, she knew that the tide had gone out a bit since they'd been out there, but Hailey still seemed so, so far away, and Calleigh didn't like it at all. Especially because she _knew_ her own daughter; she knew just how much Hailey lived for pushing boundaries. And, just to spite her, Calleigh knew that Hailey would creep just a little bit farther out into the ocean, just a tiny bit farther than the point where Calleigh had told her specifically not to pass._

_It seemed the calm she had felt had dissipated, replaced by a deafening sense of alarm, maternal panic._

_Shifting, Calleigh attempted to pull out of his embrace, but she merely felt his arms tighten around her. "Calleigh, baby," he soothed, merely chuckling as she squirmed against him. He knew exactly what had changed all of a sudden; had expected it as soon as her eyes came open. "Calm down…"_

_But Calleigh was having none of that. She wasn't sure what she felt more – alarm for her daughter, or irritation at her husband for letting her close her eyes. "I can't believe I let you distract me," she fretted, biting her lip as Hailey danced in the surf, almost taunting it, taunting Calleigh, as she stepped farther and farther, the water growing deeper and deeper around her tiny body. _

_"Relax," he coaxed gently, amusement so plain in his voice that Calleigh wanted to shove at his chest. "I've been watching her the whole time – she's fine."_

_Even so, Calleigh couldn't help but feel the apprehension bubble up within her. These days, there were very few things that frightened her more than her daughter's wild side; her oft-encouraged wild side. "I don't like this," she pouted, furrowing her brow as her body slumped against his, unable to do much more than watch her daughter. _

_"I know," he smirked, not bothering to react when Calleigh groaned at his response. "But you can't shelter her forever, beautiful."_

_Calleigh gritted her teeth. "She's seven."_

_He pressed a reassuring kiss to her temple. "When you were seven…" he trailed off, clasping their fingers together and squeezing gently. _

_She sighed, unable to concede that he didn't have a point. But it was different, though. When she'd been Hailey's age, give or take a couple years, Calleigh had been forced to grow up for reasons outside of her control. Her childhood had disappeared in a flash, leaving her the most reliable caretaker her brothers had ever known. But Hailey…Calleigh shook her head. "It's not the same. I had to grow up. Hailey…she's just…wild."_

_The answering chuckle had Calleigh rolling her eyes. "Hailey isn't wild," he replied, though Calleigh could hear the grin on his lips. "She's just being a kid. And kids…they need to be kids. If you let her grow up too fast, or if you hold on and don't let her grow up at all…well…"_

_Calleigh knew exactly what he was talking about. "I know," she sighed, lowering her eyes momentarily to their clasped hands. "It's just…hard, I guess."_

_"If it were easy," he paused, pressing another kiss to her skin, "you wouldn't be as good of a mom as you are."_

_Calleigh gave another sigh, simply longing to lose herself in the feelings he was causing within her, but knowing she had to keep her eyes open; her eyes on Hailey. "She makes me wonder, though, sometimes…"_

_"Well, don't," he replied simply, his voice low and rough at her ear. "You're an amazing mother. If you weren't, how do you think Hailey would be right now?" He paused, allowing a moment for his words to settle in while he pressed another kiss to her temple. "Hailey's strong-willed and determined as hell to get what she wants. She's just –"_

_"Just like you?" Calleigh supplied with a smirk._

_"Baby, she's just as much you as she is me," he insisted with a low, rumbling chuckle. "Maybe even more."_

_"Well, at least I didn't try to give my mother a heart attack when I was seven," Calleigh retorted, only slightly annoyed at the laugh that issued from behind her. "Well, I didn't."_

_"Hailey isn't _trying_ to give you a heart attack," he mused, resting his chin atop her head. "You're just worrying a bit too much."_

_Calleigh attempted to reply, but the little girl in question was now skipping up the sand toward them, a smile on her lips and a large shell in her hands. "Look what I found in the ocean!" she exclaimed, clearly proud of her discovery. "Beth said it was impossible to find shells bigger than the one she brought for show-and-tell, but I stepped on this one and dove down to get it!"_

_Calleigh found her heart nearly stopping at the idea of Hailey blindly diving through the water to pick up something beneath her feet. "What if that hadn't been a shell down there, sweetheart? Like a –" she paused, mentally running through the list of sea creatures that could stun a little girl, but not terribly hurt her. "Like a crab?"_

_But at that, Hailey's eyes only lit up more. "Cool! If I find one, can I keep it?"_

_Calleigh attempted to be stern, but found it extraordinarily difficult with the low chuckle that issued from behind her. "Hailey…"_

_"You don't really want a crab, princess." Hailey's eyes darted quickly toward her father, tilting her head slightly. "You might think they're funny, but what about Delilah?" he asked, referring to the little fluffball of a puppy that Hailey simply adored. "She's curious about new things, and you don't want her to get her little nose pinched by a crab, do you?"_

_Immediately Hailey shook her head, though her smile remained. "But if I do find one, I can still play with it on the beach, can't I? Please?"_

_Inwardly Calleigh groaned, regretting ever mentioning anything about it. The last thing she wanted was for Hailey to go out even deeper, using her feet to dig around in the wet sand until she found something that may or may not be a crab. _

_But even her husband, who seemed to spoil the little girl with anything and everything she wanted, knew when to put his foot down when Hailey pushed too far. "Princess, if you bring something that's in the ocean out of the ocean, you could hurt it," he pointed out softly, and Hailey's expression changed immediately. "You don't want to do that, do you?"_

_"No…" She sighed, wiggling her toes in the sand. "Fine," she relented, glancing back to the ocean. Her eyes brightened again as she watched the waves, and Calleigh could see her happiness bloom again. "I wanna go back out now," she announced, already backing away from her parents._

_"Hailey," Calleigh admonished lightly, exasperation plain in her voice as the root of her original concern welled up once more. Hailey merely grinned up at her, her eyes darting from the worried expression on her mother's face to the amused grin her father wore. She knew that if she were _really_ in trouble, that if she were pushing it too far, her father would be just as stern as her mother. And that clearly wasn't the case, so Hailey grinned, bouncing excitedly from foot to foot. Calleigh sighed, just knowing that her instructions went right through one ear and out the other. "Don't go out farther than I said you could."_

_Hailey gave her best pout, a pleading yet devilish expression she had inherited directly from her father – the one that suggested asking permission, but which really meant she was going to do what she wanted anyway."But Mommy," she whined, drawing out the words in her best pleading drawl. "It's no fun to stay so close…"_

_Silently, Calleigh seethed, feeling her husband's repressed chuckles behind her – he was clearly going to be no help. "Hailey…please just stay where we can see you, okay?"_

_Once more, Hailey glanced to her father, her dark eyes dancing just as Calleigh imagined her husband's eyes were. She grinned, and Calleigh got the impression they were sharing a silent conversation, leaving her out of it on purpose. But before Calleigh could summon her indignance, Hailey tilted her head, the most angelic of expressions – too angelic, Calleigh noted – on her innocent face. "Okay," she relented, drawing out the single word in a disappointed drawl. _

_But as soon as Calleigh relaxed even the slightest bit, Hailey grinned. Her father chuckled, and without another word, the tiny blonde turned and took off again, running full speed toward the ocean, leaping effortlessly over a large, empty hole that another child had recently dug in the sand. Calleigh couldn't help but tense again, just knowing that Hailey was going to fall and twist an ankle, or worse. "Hailey Jade!"_

_"She's not listening," he chuckled, obviously amused. The sound tickled Calleigh's ear, and she couldn't help but shiver lightly. "That wouldn't be any fun."_

_"Yeah, and I wonder who taught her that?" she retorted. _

_"It's not a matter of that," he insisted. "She's curious – just like you, if I might add," he pointed out with a smirk. "She's got to find out some of these things by herself, sweetheart. Sometimes it takes being knocked under by a big wave to realize that she really shouldn't be out so far."_

_Calleigh scoffed. "Yeah, or she just decides it's fun and does it over and over again."_

_"Well then, I guess we've got one choice then, huh?"_

_Calleigh blinked, watching as Hailey made her way through the shallows, slowly submerging herself to the waist in the water. "What, go inside?" she asked, confused. "I don't want to make her do that…"_

_He smirked, nuzzling lightly at against her temple. "If we don't want her going out too far…" he proposed, shifting his body in a way that made Calleigh tense even more – what was he doing?_

_Mere seconds later, Calleigh got her answer as the feel of his body disappeared from behind her, and before she could turn to see where he'd gone, her husband was scooping her into his arms, ignoring the startled cry that escaped her lips. "Guess we should go out there with her, then!"_

_And moments later as she stood in water up to her own waist, Calleigh couldn't help but laugh along with her husband and daughter – who now held safely to her father as they approached her – after she'd surfaced and finished sputtering in surprise at being playfully submerged by her husband into an oncoming wave._

**..**

The phone in one hand and a glass in the other, Calleigh padded her way out of the kitchen, bumping the switch with her elbow to turn out the kitchen lights. "You really _don't_ have to check up on me, Evan," she insisted, making her way to the comfortable recliner in the den. Fresh from a hot bubble bath, the damp ends of her blonde locks fell in waves around her shoulders, curling up at the tips. Her body was wrapped snugly within her favorite, fluffy pink robe, matching slippers covering her feet. All she really wanted was a night of relaxation, a night of very little thought, and she'd almost achieved it until she'd left the bathroom to hear the phone ringing, her baby brother on the other line.

And of course, he wanted to check up on her, like the sweetheart of a brother that he was. With a sigh, Calleigh slowly lowered herself into the recliner, rolling her eyes, however good-naturedly, at her brother's response. "After the last time you called me, I can't _not_ check up on you, sis. I just wanted to see if you were any closer to figuring things out, that's all."

Placing her glass on the side table, Calleigh couldn't help but let her shoulders slump as she leaned back, resting against the cushions. "Evan…"

There was a pause. And then, "You haven't."

Even from several hundred miles away, Evan could still pick out the subtlest nuances in his sister's voice, even when all she said was his name. "No," she sighed, absently twirling a lock of her hair. "I think I might be more mixed-up now about everything than I was before," she admitted.

Evan sighed, knowing immediately that Calleigh hadn't taken his advice the first time. "What happened?"

"Nothing _happened_," Calleigh replied, a little too defensively. She paused, knowing Evan saw through her lie, but she really didn't want to talk about what had happened since last they had talked. "It's just more of the same. I still feel like I'm being pulled in both directions, and you know, you'd think it would be easier _now_," she huffed, knowing that would be the logical expectation.

"Why's that?"

"Because…" her voice faded as her eyes grew preoccupied with the fabric of her robe. "It shouldn't be so damn difficult to make a decision that's already been made for me, basically."

"Whoa," Evan broke in, confused. "Explain that to me."

Biting at her lip, Calleigh shifted anxiously, wishing she could ignore the thoughts and feelings bubbling through to the surface. The last thing she wanted was to put them into words, but fighting that was a losing battle, and she was tired of fighting. Physically, mentally, emotionally exhausted. "I just…it's not like I have a decision to make anymore…because Jake – Jake is gone. Eric isn't."

"Jake's gone?" Evan asked, surprise plain in his voice. "Where?"

Calleigh gave a rueful laugh. "If I knew, I…"

"…You would what?"

And for that, Calleigh had no answer. Suddenly uncomfortable, she shifted, curling her slippered feet beneath her body in the recliner. "It doesn't matter," she dismissed quietly, shaking her head. "He's gone. He said goodbye. It was – there was – it was final."

Evan blinked, noting the way she seemed to stumble over her words, but not pressing that part of the issue and choosing instead to put two and two together in his own mind. "So, Jake is gone, maybe for good," he surmised, unable to see Calleigh's slight wince at his words through the phone. "Eric, however, isn't…so what's the problem? I thought the issue was that they were both there fighting over you," he continued, and Calleigh couldn't help but roll her eyes at his words. "One's gone, one's left, leaving you a clear answer, right? Makes sense to me – I mean, before, you had this issue, this whole 'two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both,' thing" he added sagely, calling upon the words of Robert Frost.

"Nice to see that English minor hasn't gone to waste," Calleigh quipped sarcastically, recalling the words of that very poem herself. "So what, all this time I should've taken the one less traveled? Evan, that doesn't even make any sense…"

Evan laughed. "That may be a more, uh, crude example than the one _I_ was going for," he smirked, and Calleigh was suddenly glad he couldn't see her through the phone. She hadn't even considered the slight implication in her words if she applied them to Jake and Eric instead of the two roads that Evan had confused her with, and she couldn't help but blush slightly as Evan chuckled. "What I _meant_ was that, despite what the poem says, it doesn't really matter which road you _should've_ taken. When you get to the point where _you_ are, you've waited so long that an avalanche or something has blocked one road, leaving you no choice which to take." He paused, though the other end of the line remained silent. "I told you that months ago…" he added, his voice softer, sympathetic.

"I know what you told me," she conceded, weary eyes closed. "I just…don't know. I still can't do it."

"So what, you're just going to wait until spring, when the snow clears the other road?" He paused. "Or, since you don't appreciate my metaphors," he rephrased, catching his sister's scoff all too clearly, "you're just going to wait until Jake comes back and makes it all that much more difficult?"

"I don't even know if he's coming back," Calleigh protested, biting at the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled her mouth, nauseating her, but she made no effort to wash it away. Nausea from physical discomfort was far easier to deal with than nausea from worry, or guilt, or complicated indecision.

And the former, it seemed, would fade away much quicker than the latter.

"So that's what's holding you back."

Calleigh sighed. "Evan, I don't –"

"I know; I know – you _don't_ know," Evan filled in with a sigh of his own. "What happened to the so-sure-of-herself-and-everyone-around-her Calleigh that I grew up with?" His question was met by only silence, though he could tell that Calleigh was not only wondering the same thing, but silently lamenting it. "Okay," he continued, exhaling deeply as he spoke. "I know you hate this kind of thing…but at this point, I think it's a little beyond what you like and don't like to do. So why don't you just…_talk_ to me."

Calleigh wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Evan, we've _been_ talking…"

"Nuh-uh. Not what I mean." He paused, long enough to drop Calleigh further into confusion. "Okay. Think about it like this. I don't know Eric. All I _really _know about Jake is what he looks like. And I figure, one day you'll end up marrying one of them, so I need to know that at least they have decent enough qualities somewhere to offset the fact that neither of them are _really _good enough for my sister," he teased, catching the faintest half-chuckle from the other end. "And you never know – you know how sometimes things just work out like that? Sometimes you don't really know the answer you're looking for until you hear yourself say it out loud."

Calleigh nibbled thoughtfully at her lip. "I don't know that it's that easy," she said slowly, her fingers itching for something to fidget with. Instead, she clenched her free hand into a fist, unwilling to let the anxiety win again.

"I'm serious, Cal," he insisted. "Just…tell me about them. What you love about both of these guys; what you hate about both of them. Just try it – and if it starts to feel too silly," he added, knowing that was exactly what Calleigh was thinking, "then you can stop."

Taking a moment to think it over, Calleigh finally sighed, conceding to his point. After all, it wasn't exactly like she had much left to lose. "Fine, but only because you _are_ smarter than you let on - you _may_ be right..."

Ignoring her good-natured jab, Evan took the conversation into his own hands, knowing if he left it up to her to choose, they would get nowhere. "Okay then, tell me about this Eric."

A momentary surge of indignance arose within her – after all, Calleigh didn't like having her decisions made for her. But, maybe Evan was right. Maybe this _was_ something she needed to do. And, if nothing else, it would give Evan a chance to learn something about Eric and Jake, instead of, like he'd said, getting to know just days before she walked down the aisle with one of them – as much as the prospect made her smirk; she didn't see _that_ happening anytime soon. And besides, she'd grown up with, not to mention worked several cases of marriages gone sour…

But that wasn't the issue right now, and Calleigh slowly shook her head, clearing her thoughts, focusing on the man who had been her best friend for years. "Where do I even begin?" she wondered aloud, biting at her lip. For a moment, she gathered her thoughts, and then with a deep breath she began. "Eric…he's been my closest, truest friend since…since I came to Miami, really." She smiled, memories of their first meetings flashing through her mind. "He was working in underwater recovery at the time, but it wasn't too long before he transferred to CSI." Her smile faded as she realized that she'd never really bothered to find out why he'd transferred. "You know, it was just one of those…instant things. We just clicked, and I really haven't had that – that connection with anybody else at work.

"Last year, and oh God, it still feels like last month, last week, maybe even yesterday," she mused, shuddering a bit at the memory that played vividly in her mind. "He – he was shot; took a bullet to the thigh, one to the head. I was…" she hesitated, shaking her head. The word that came to mind immediately was _not_ one she frequently utilized. "I was terrified, Evan. They lost him at least once on the table, and I just – I knew he was gone."

Pausing, Calleigh took in a deep breath, hoping to quell the surge of emotion that gnawed mercilessly at her. "But somehow, he pulled through, and I – I was there when he woke up. I'd never been so _relieved. _We'd spent a good part of the past couple of years growing…growing apart, I guess, and this kind of put everything into perspective – I can't – I've lost so many friends in this job already…I - I can't handle losing _him_." The last few words were spoken in a deathly quiet whisper, and Calleigh had to stop, swallowing hard against the forming lump in her throat.

"Why?" Evan asked, the question sounding vague even in his own ears. "In particular, I mean."

She knew what he was asking, really. What would she dearly miss about him? And could she see herself living without those attributes in her everyday life? The second, Calleigh couldn't answer, but the answer to the first quickly bubbled up within her. "He makes me smile," she said simply, softly. "Makes me laugh. Even when my day's going horribly wrong, he can always make me feel a bit better." She gave a thoughtful pause, realizing that the loss of any of the qualities that endeared him to her would have a definite impact on her life. "It just seems like he's always there for me, you know? He's – he's reliable. Sweet. Steady. I pretty much know for certain that if I'd open that door for him, he'd be there completely. That's just who he is; who he's always been."

For a moment, there was silence from the other end before her brother spoke once more. "What _don't_ you like about him?" he asked patiently.

Calleigh gave a deep sigh, her answer leaping almost immediately to her mind. It wasn't a flaw of Eric's by any means; in fact, it was probably what made him so much better at dealing with emotions than she could ever hope to be. However, it was something she so often wished she could just run away from. "He…pushes," she answered vaguely, chewing thoughtfully at her lip. "Sometimes he's too protective; always has been. He's _always_ able to tell when something is bothering me, and I think he thinks that sharing everything with him is what I _always_ want to do."

"So he's nosy."

"Evan," Calleigh sighed again, staring at the carpet. "It's not _that…"_

"But it is?" he pressed.

"No, it's _not,"_ Calleigh huffed. "I swear, it's not. I just…" Pausing, she pursed her lips, watching intently as her fingers picked at a stray thread on the sleeve of her robe. "I don't even know what I'm trying to say," she admitted helplessly.

"You don't know how you'd live _without _him," Evan supplied quietly, wincing himself at the cliché in his words. "But then other times, you don't know how you'd be able to live _with _him?"

"I – I guess," Calleigh replied noncommittally, not fully liking what he'd deduced, but not sure how else to term it. She gave a restless shrug, only barely holding in a groan. "But it's the same…with Jake…"

"Okay then," Evan replied, accepting the shift in the conversation. He knew very little about the man, but vaguely Evan could remember Calleigh occasionally mentioning him, though never going much into detail. "Wanna tell me about Jake, then?"

_Not really._ Letting her eyes fall closed, Calleigh shoved that answer, her first choice, away from her mind. Instead, she wrapped her robe even tighter around her body as her thoughts shifted to Jake, forcing her to confront with the little things she couldn't stand about him; the little things she loved about him. "I never actually introduced you two, did I?" she mused, barely listening as her brother answered negatively. "You know we went to the police academy together, _ages_ ago. You know we have…_history."_

"Okay, so, if you two had history in the past, and it ended…less than well, what brings him back into the equation now?"

And that was the question Calleigh had struggled to answer for herself for so, so long. "It's a long story, sort of," she murmured, eyeing the glass she'd placed on the side table. "I guess maybe there's a part of me that thought we could pick up where we left off; that we could move past all the lies, all the broken promises if there was anything still there. And really…I just – he makes me feel…special," she finished lamely, rolling her eyes at herself. "I can't explain it. The way he looks at me, talks to me, the way he…" she trailed off, her cheeks tinting as her thoughts drifted to a place her brother was neither allowed to be, nor ever wanted in the least to be. "He's a charmer; always has been, probably always will be. He's a smooth-talker; I've never really seen him flustered."

She sighed, shivering as darker thoughts invaded, leaving her unable to do much but continue. "I know he cares –_ cared_ about me, but between the lies and the secrets, and the games…I just can't take that. Either he just doesn't get it, or he just doesn't care, and I can't spend my life wondering which one it is – I already gave him years of that." She paused, feeling herself growing angrier by the second. "You know what I realized this time around? I don't know a _damn_ thing about him because everything he ever told me was a lie.

"It's his job, you know. Lying. Keeping secrets. And he's the _best_ at it. I never knew where he was going, because it had to be a secret. And on the off-chance that he did tell me _anything_, I never knew what to believe because a good portion of the words that came out of his mouth were lies!"

Closing her eyes again, Calleigh silently chastised herself for her short outburst, knowing she'd let her emotions get the best of her again. Evan was silent, offering her all the time she needed before Calleigh felt ready to breathe in again and continue. "I never knew when, or even if he was coming home. Hell, I never even knew whether he was still alive. I – I always dreaded the day that I would walk in – the precinct in New Orleans _or_ the lab here, either one – and feel all the eyes on me, hear all the whispers and sense everyone's pity, none of them wanting to be the one to tell me he was…_gone._ God, I _hate_ the way he does this to me; I hate worrying about him, even when I tell myself that I'm done with it. It's – _he's _frustrating."

Breathing deeply, she allowed herself to continue, admitting deeper reservations that she'd kept locked away, until now. "I hate the way he plays with me, with my emotions. And nothing, _nothing_ is as much of a slap to the face as knowing that it doesn't matter what I do or what I say, I'm – I would've _never_ been first in his life." Her eyes burned angrily, but Calleigh blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears come. They would _not. _"I _hate_ taking sick days, Evan. I _hate_ being late for work; I hate feeling like I've done a subpar job on a particular investigation. So I _know_ how important this job is – I _know_ the kind of commitment law enforcement requires, be it lab work, patrol, UC, whatever. I hate being second-best, but more than that…"

She trailed off, hesitating for so long that Evan couldn't help but softly call her name. "Cal?"

And when Calleigh continued, her voice was thick with tears, the first of which had slipped from her eyes, their paths visible on both of her cheeks. "I should've realized it ten years ago," she murmured, her voice trembling. "It was _never_ going to be me – what we had was never going to be more important to him than the job was. He was married to that life from the very first assignment."

"Calleigh…"

But she took no note of the concern in her brother's voice. She knew she was getting worked up, all over again, but she couldn't stop it – couldn't stop the words, the emotions, over a decade's worth of each. "Sometimes I think I hate _him._ And I…" Trailing off, Calleigh swallowed hard, though it did little good for her cotton-dry mouth. Along with the emotions within her, there was a sense of annoyance that had crept up as well – this had turned into less of a "catch-me-up" phone call with her brother and into more of a therapy session. And though she hated the idea of that, it seemed that the dam had burst – Calleigh had to at least be thankful it hadn't burst in front of somebody else.

Shaking her head, she gave a deep sigh and forced herself to continue. "I hate _myself_ for letting him back in again. _I_ let him hurt me again. _I_ let him walk back into my life and tear it all to pieces, all over again. _I _let him, knowing what he had done the last time, and then he went and did the exact same thing. How could I be so…" she trailed off, lifting a hand to rub at her weary eyes.

For a moment, she merely focused on steadying her breathing, controlling the slight tremble in her fingers. It was only the quiet calling of her name that broke her focus, bringing her back to the present and away from her darkened thoughts. "I can't do this," she said finally, her voice carrying more strength than she'd believed possible. "I don't want to talk about that anymore."

Unlike a therapist and more like the caring brother that he was, Evan allowed that. Calleigh was hurt, and Evan's heart was absolutely breaking for her. He ached to protect her, like he'd done so often when they were kids, despite being younger than her, but more than anything, Evan was almost dying to get his hands on either one of those men in her life. If he were to run into one of them on the street right now, Evan knew that not even the threat of life in prison, or worse, would be enough to control his fury. His sister had already faced a full childhood of agony; now, she deserved to be nothing less than happy.

And it was clear that she was nowhere even close to that point right now. He knew her well enough to know how she became when something like this was eating at her. That was literally what it did to her – it ate at her until there was no more emotional pain that could be inflicted, and then it moved on to the next part of her. Her sleeping, her eating, her everyday life – it started to crash down around her, leaving her lost in a haze of not only heartache, but physical distress as well. "Calleigh, I'm sorry," he said quietly, the words genuinely apologetic. "I didn't want to stir up bad memories or anything – I just…I'm worried about you. I know how you are, and ignore me if you want when I say this, but I've seen you. When you're torn up emotionally like this, it destroys you physically too."

She wanted to ignore his words, but even Calleigh could not deny the truth. "You're not the only one," she grumbled, her mind drifting back to the last personal conversation she'd shared with Alexx. "Alexx thinks it's the other way around, though," she continued in an effort to lighten the conversation. "She thinks it's something physical that's destroying my emotions." She paused, allowing herself a light chuckle. "She thinks I'm pregnant."

Silent for a moment, Evan didn't seem to find the same amusement that his sister had. "She does, huh?"

His skepticism was obvious even over the phone, and Calleigh lifted a brow in confusion. "No. _No._ You are _not_ allowed to jump in that boat with her."

"You wouldn't have said anything if you thought it was a ridiculous idea," he replied gently.

Calleigh groaned, rubbing at her tired eyes, defiantly ignoring the lingering moisture from her heavy confessions. "I would have, too! I mentioned it because it's ridiculous and I needed something to – to lighten…_this_," she explained, however vaguely, yet knowing immediately her brother knew what she meant. But even she couldn't deny that though he knew what she meant, it didn't mean he had to believe her. "I'm _not_ pregnant, Evan."

Evan's momentary, skeptical silence was enough to have Calleigh wanting to reach through the phone in frustration. "Is it possible, though?" he asked finally, a question that was, if possible, worse than the silence. But before Calleigh could answer, Evan caught himself. "Actually, scratch that – I don't _really_ want to know about my big sister's sex life," he quipped, and Calleigh finally smirked, almost hearing his cringe over the phone. "But I mean, look around you, Cal. Accidents happen. _Babies _happen. You know?"

"You're being ridiculous," Calleigh argued immediately, rubbing frustratedly at her eyes. "I only said anything about it at all because I thought we both could use a laugh or two. I'm not stupid."

Evan chuckled, and were it anyone other than her baby brother, it would've been condescending. "You're _not _stupid," he agreed, and Calleigh could already hear the "but" coming. "You've _never_ been stupid; that's how you got yourself away from home without ever having to look back." He paused, and Calleigh rolled her eyes, just waiting. "But you don't have to be stupid to –"

"I didn't make a _mistake_, Evan," Calleigh snapped, regretting her tone of voice immediately. Even so, despite the fact that she'd brought it up in this conversation as a joke, it _had_ been the direction her mind had taken earlier as well. _Had_ she made a mistake? Missed a pill somewhere along the way? As far back as she'd been able to tell, she'd always been scrupulous about that, knowing very well what the consequences could be.

In typical Duquesne fashion, her harsh tone rolled right off of Evan's back, almost as though forgotten before Calleigh could even get the chance to apologize. "Not what I was going to say," he continued, unaffected. Calleigh bit her lip, feeling a bit sheepish as she listened silently. "I was going to say you don't have to be stupid for something…unexpected to happen. Nothing is _completely_ foolproof, sis."

Calleigh sighed. "I know…" What she didn't know was why she had let this conversation drag on for as long as it had. After all, she already knew the answer – why hadn't she just told Evan that to begin with?

But before she could continue, Evan spoke up again. "So what are you gonna do?"

"Evan, there's nothing _to_ do," Calleigh replied, scratching at her neck. "I'm not…pregnant."

The skepticism was back in her brother's voice. "You sure?"

Reaching up, Calleigh tucked a lock of her still damp hair behind her ears, not even caring for the moment of the wave the action might produce – she could always straighten it out later. "Yes, I'm sure. I…" She trailed off, frowning slightly as her mind brought her back to the events of the past couple of days. Alexx's comment had been nothing; she'd easily shaken that off, forgetting about it until a few days later. But then, it had inadvertently revisited her in her dreams, in the form of that blonde, dark-eyed little princess named Hailey.

Calleigh had awoken from the dream covered in a thin sheen of sweat and reaching out for…someone. Her hands had come upon empty, cold air, leaving her wounded heart feeling much the same. She'd been surprised to find the moisture on her cheeks was not only sweat, but tears mixed in.

During the days, Calleigh found herself smiling and laughing, almost feeling like her old self again. But she clearly paid dearly during the nights for that. The nights were the worst; it seemed the more she tried to move on during daylight hours, the darker her nighttime demons became. They became more real, more vivid, and suddenly what had seemed like a joke beneath the sun became something that merited real concern once the light of day had faded.

It was her continued confusion over the little girl in her dreams that had her thinking more and more on Alexx's offhand – had it really been offhand, though? – comment. There _was_ that inexplicably strong emotional tie that Calleigh already seemed to have to Hailey, and the more she thought about it, the more that…_something_ within her continued to latch onto that comment, the two of them combined, shifting from the realm of the abstract and into the realm of the physical, the realm of the tangible. And it was that physical, tangible entity that lurked in Calleigh's bathroom in the form of a negative pregnancy test.

She'd gone over it time and time again in her head before she'd taken it. If Calleigh _had _been pregnant, then there was no one else it could possibly be – the baby would've irrefutably and irrevocably been Jake's. Did that mean Hailey was Jake's daughter?

Or was it the other way around? Jake was gone; Calleigh had no way of knowing if she would ever see or hear from him again. And Hailey was obviously a part of the future – if the little girl did in fact exist, and wasn't simply a part of Calleigh's distressed imagination. So then, without Jake in the picture, did that mean Hailey was Eric's daughter?

Closing her eyes, Calleigh summoned up the three pairs of deep, dark eyes, willing her mind's eye to seek out the differences, to piece together any similarities.

But it proved fruitless. The only eyes she could see clearly enough were Eric's eyes. His eyes came quickly and vividly to the front of her mind, having looked into them just recently at work. But Jake's eyes…Calleigh couldn't stop the jolt that rushed through her as she realized how…fuzzy the picture was becoming. It felt like forever since she'd gazed into those eyes, forever since the last time she'd seen him or heard his voice. She couldn't picture him clearly, let alone his eyes.

In her dreams, Hailey's eyes had _always_ been the clearest part of the little girl, but as Calleigh tried to recall the images now, they just wouldn't come. There was no way she could compare the three images; there was no way to know. And that fact only served to darken Calleigh's mood even more.

Shaking her head, she reached for the glass of wine on the side table, forcing away the guilt she felt as she brought it to her lips. It was only one glass, though, so she pushed the guilt away – she only wanted to relax herself, not drown away all sense of consciousness. And after the unnecessary anxiety that the pregnancy test had elicited in her, she needed something, anything to quiet the voices in her mind, even a little bit.

"Cal?" His voice was quiet, almost as though he were calling out to her from a great distance. "You okay?"

There was genuine concern in his voice, and Calleigh couldn't help but smile slightly. Despite being younger than her, Evan had always looked out for her whenever he could. Sighing softly, she rested against the cushion on the back of the recliner, allowing her body to slump against it. "Yeah," she murmured after a moment, knowing Evan could see right through her words. "I'm just tired…confused, really."

Evan hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe you should get some rest…you've _got_ to be exhausted."

"Practically dead on my sore feet," she replied, frowning. More than anything, she wished that Evan had been right, but if anything, she felt worse after talking about everything. Nothing in her head was sorted out; if anything, she was lost in a deeper jumble of thoughts and emotions. "I think I'm going to bed here in a bit, but first…" She paused, worrying her lip between her teeth. Her ear felt all but numb now from the shaking force with which she'd held the phone, and with a slight wince, she shifted the phone to her other ear, shaking her damp hair out of the way. "Can I…can I ask you something first?"

For a moment, Evan was silent, able to feel the gravity in his sister's words. "Anything, sis," he replied, almost able to feel her anxiety through the phone.

It felt awkward to her mind, to her entire being, but Calleigh had no other words with which to describe the confusion within her. "Do you – do you think it's possible…" she trailed off, hesitating for a moment more. "To feel this way about two different people at the same time?"

Her mind was filled with sharp-edged triangles – those from soap operas, from romance novels, from cases at work, primetime television. They were everywhere, and they all ended up with someone getting hurt – oftentimes, all three people. She hadn't _intended_ for that to happen to anyone, but it seemed that had been exactly what Calleigh had done. "To be in – in love with two people at the same time?"

Evan exhaled, a quiet chuckle reaching Calleigh's ears. "Cal, you know I'm not the right person _at all_ to be asking. I couldn't even tell you what love was if it bit me in the ass," he quipped, and Calleigh couldn't help but chuckle a bit herself. "I'll tell you what I _think_, though. I think loving someone, and being _in love_ with somebody are two different, _vastly _different feelings. I think you can need somebody in your life, but it's not the same as needing somebody _to survive._ And I think you've still got a hell of a lot of confusion that needs to clear before you can see the answer, but to be honest, I think you _know_ the answer. Somewhere, I think you know _exactly_ what you want. Who you want."

"Well, I sure wish _I _felt that confident in what I knew," she replied quietly, startling slightly as a soft chime echoed through her condo.

Apparently Evan's ear had caught it too, assuaging her fear that she was beginning to hear things. "Was that, uh, your doorbell?" he asked, seemingly as puzzled as Calleigh.

"Yeah, it was," she replied slowly, rising a bit unsteadily from the recliner. Momentarily, she closed her eyes, fighting off the wave of vertigo that threatened to bring her down again. "It's nearly two, though," she added with a shock, having not realized until then just how late it really was.

She tightened her robe around her body, already shuffling quietly toward the door, phone still at her ear. "Are you expecting somebody this late?" Evan asked, and Calleigh shook her head before realizing Evan couldn't see her.

"No, I'm not…" she replied, glad for the slippers that covered her feet as she stepped onto the tiled floor in the foyer. Turning on the porch light, she tried to glance through the windows that lined either side of the door, but it remained too dark to make anyone out.

Her hand was on the chain lock before Evan spoke again, a quiet seriousness in his voice. "Promise me something, okay, Cal? And then I'll let you go for the night."

"Yeah, anything," Calleigh replied, rather distracted by now.

"Promise me you're not going to do something you'll regret," he said, and Calleigh blinked, not quite understanding the context of his request. Chain and deadbolt undone, Calleigh brought her hand to the knob, pausing as her brother spoke again. "Don't make a mistake you can't take back."

She opened her mouth to reply, opening her door at the same time. And suddenly, any reply she'd formulated was stolen from her lips at the sight of her visitor, leaving her unable to do much more than gape.

Once, twice, and a third time Evan called Calleigh's name, but by then, he'd completely lost his sister's attention to her late night guest. "I – I have to go," she stammered, bidding her brother goodnight. "Love you."

Pressing the button to terminate the call, Calleigh licked her parched lips as she simply stood there, her emerald eyes, wide with surprise, meeting the deep, dark gaze of her visitor.


	39. As It Seems

**_Chapter Thirty-Nine_**  
_**As It Seems**  
-**  
**_

His dark eyes met hers from across the threshold, filled with an intensity and such a sense of underlying pain that Calleigh couldn't help but bristle. He stood eerily still, and unconsciously Calleigh tightened her robe around her body as she greeted him quietly. "Eric…"

He took in her countenance, her body wrapped within her robe, her tired eyes. "I was afraid I might wake you, but…" His eyes drifted toward the phone in her hand, watching as Calleigh moved to set it on the small table in the foyer. "I guess you were still up anyway." He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, he did very little to conceal the displeasure in his voice. It was late, he was tired, and beyond all else, he held in his hands the very knife that had cut the remainder of his heart into tiny pieces. "That Jake?"

A flash of surprise flickered through Calleigh's eyes, though it was gone before Eric could wonder why. Glancing down at her slippered feet, it hit her immediately why Eric would assume that – the two words she'd offered Evan as a closing just as she'd opened the door to Eric. Lifting her eyes once more, Calleigh attempted a smile, though it felt much too fake even for her. She had not the energy to pretend, not tonight. "Uh, no," she stammered finally, allowing her eyes to trace over Eric's slightly disheveled, nervous form. "My brother, actually…"

"Oh." The reply was simple, almost as though Eric knew not how to follow that. What else was he supposed to assume? Nothing was ever as it seemed anymore - he knew Jake and Calleigh had broken up, but then again, he held in his hands the very letter that suggested none of it was ever that simple. And as Calleigh had spoken her casual closing of affection into the phone, Eric's mind had immediately leapt to Jake. He couldn't deny the relief he felt upon discovering it was her brother instead, though it was a very small relief. It didn't make Jake's written words go away.

Nothing would ever make that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach disappear either. Swallowing hard, Eric forced himself to meet Calleigh's eyes, searching for the comfort he'd always found in the emerald orbs. The silence continued to drag on, and Eric found himself watching the way the shock and surprise in her eyes shifted to confusion, perhaps even a bit of anxiety. Shaking his head slightly, Eric took a deep breath, preparing himself to dive right in. "Look, I –"

"Eric, what –" Her simultaneous words brought them both to a halt, and Calleigh gave a sheepish chuckle, adopting a would-be casual stance in the doorway - she wasn't fooling anybody, but that didn't mean she couldn't at least try. "I'm sorry."

Her apology brought back to his mind the last time they had exchanged words, and Eric smiled softly. "Thanks for reminding me of that," he murmured, almost to himself. Ignoring the growing confusion in Calleigh's eyes, he continued on. "I, uh, wanted to apologize," he said quietly, unable to hold her eyes any longer. Dropping his gaze to the ground below, he didn't elaborate, though Calleigh didn't need him to. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, she knew exactly to which incident he was referring.

She shook her head, remembering the argument they'd had at the crime scene just the afternoon before. "That was my fault," she insisted quietly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I was being pushy, and I wouldn't have liked it if you'd done the same to me."

"Even so…" he trailed off, biting at his lip as the emotional words of that afternoon came back to him. "You said a lot of things that really - really hit me, and you're right. I should've told you I was having those kind of headaches, those near blackouts. I should've told you that I wasn't okay; that I haven't really been okay since the shooting - there's always going to be a part of that that doesn't go away. I shouldn't have let my...the fact that I _hate_ this thing with you and Jake get in the way of our friendship, and yet it's still what I keep doing, over and over again." He paused, lifting his eyes back to hers. "I _should've_ told you, not because we work together and if it had happened during a case, things could go quickly south and everything could be compromised. I should've told you because of what you mean to me, what your friendship means to me. I just…I never thought it would hurt you. I'm sorry."

Calleigh offered a comforting smile, gently reaching out to tap his elbow, just a sweet gesture to let him know that she was there. "I know," she replied softly, waiting for Eric to meet her eyes before continuing. "You scared me, you know? Maybe I was the one who overreacted…" She held his gaze, and Calleigh felt a shiver race along the length of her spine at the look of intensity in his eyes at her admission of fear. But along with the shiver came a sense of nervousness, and Calleigh shifted on her feet, tilting her head slightly as the lateness of the hour and the still unclear circumstances surrounding his visit were once more apparent to her. "But you didn't come all the way out here just to apologize to me for something that wasn't even really your fault, did you?"

It was more a statement than a question, and Eric sighed heavily, conceding with a nod. "No, I didn't." His hand felt as heavy as stone as he lifted it, holding the slightly wrinkled envelope out to Calleigh. "I, uh, this is yours," he explained, avoiding Calleigh's eyes once more. His hand trembled, though only a bit, easily concealed by the lack of bright light in the foyer.

His sudden sheepishness, however, wasn't something that the darkness could cloak, and Calleigh glanced from the envelope to Eric's face, his downturned eyes leaving her more confused than she already was. "What is it?" she asked, only reaching out to take the letter when Eric failed to reply.

"I found it in the locker room, at work," he said, watching as Calleigh's hands turned the envelope, revealing the quick, careless scrawl of her name. "I dropped my keys…they fell under the lockers and I saw that…"

But suddenly, Calleigh had all but gone deaf. She heard nothing save for the pounding of her heart, magnified one hundred-fold in her ears. She would recognize that messy scrawl anywhere, and even if her eyes had trouble deciphering it, she would know just by the fluttering of her heart, the slight wobble of her knees as she stood there.

Slightly crinkled, the corners slightly frayed, almost as though it had spent hours simply being turned and turned in the author's hands. The paper was thin, though the contents within were anything but. Calleigh felt her fingers itch to open it, going so far as to turn it over in her hands. Her eyes took in the unsealed flap at the back, and she felt her breath catch as she drew a trembling finger over it. "Did – did you open it?" she asked quietly, her voice portraying far more control than she currently felt.

"No," Eric lied quickly, almost too quickly, but if Calleigh didn't believe him, she gave no indication. He lowered his head, biting his lip in shame, but still he didn't rectify his statement. "That's how I found it; I don't know how long it had been laying there…"

But Calleigh had a decent idea. It was still so painfully etched at the front of her mind, the day Jake had said his final goodbye. The day he'd walked away from her; the day she'd stopped him in a moment of weakness, all but rushing into his arms right there in the lab. Unconsciously she brought a hand to her neckline, only to find it bare, empty.

And that mere fact was the one that served as her reminder of the truth. Jake was gone. Jake had lied. Jake had kept the truth from her for months without any thought to what she needed, what she'd wanted. Nothing had changed; nothing had _ever_ changed.

And the last time that Calleigh had opened a letter that was in any way connected to him, she'd ended up spending much of the night on the bathroom floor, unable to move due to the nausea that had gripped her so fiercely. That envelope had not been addressed to her, though. This one was…and yet, Calleigh still couldn't shake the same sense of dread, the feeling that within this letter was nothing but more information that would only end with her hurt again.

Jake was gone. Maybe for good.

What use was it to keep his ghost around by reading whatever he'd been unwilling to say to her face?

Calleigh was still bruised, still trying to heal. The last thing she needed was to have those stitches ripped right out again, leaving her raw and open again. She couldn't.

With a deep breath, she forced a smile, hoping the darkness was enough so that Eric wouldn't see right through her. "Thanks, Eric," she said, nodding toward the letter. "You didn't have to, though; it's probably…probably nothing," she dismissed.

Eric bit at his lip, finding himself torn. Did he tell her the truth? Or did he stand by and let her cast it by the wayside? He knew what Calleigh was afraid of, but he also knew what the letter, or at least what the first page of it said. It was heavy enough that it had even elicited a visceral reaction from Eric. And after a moment's deliberation, Calleigh was going to cast it aside without even reading it.

And Eric wasn't sure which outcome he'd hoped for. Clearing his throat again, he watched the determination written across Calleigh's' face – she'd made her mind up. "You sure? It might be important…"

Calleigh gave another false smile, reaching out toward the side table. "I'm sure," she said, her voice more confident than she actually felt. Opening the drawer of the table, she shoved the letter inside, and without another look she forced the drawer closed again, using a little more vigor than necessary to get the letter out of her sight. "If it was important, he could've told me to my face."

Eric shifted, the bitterness in Calleigh's voice not lost on him. He glanced down, shuffling his feet, offering a slight smile. "Well, I wasn't sure how long it had been down there; I thought it might be important, something you needed…"

Despite the guilt he felt, his voice carried the thoughtful inflection, and Calleigh couldn't help but smile softly. "I appreciate that," she murmured, nodding. And she did; Eric was thoughtful, kind, sweet, any number of acceptable adjectives could fit. And she _did_ appreciate that. Still, she couldn't help but wish that Eric would've left the letter right where it was. She _didn't_ want to see what was inside; she couldn't. It might be nothing, just as she'd said, but even that would still be too much for her wounded, badly-bandaged heart.

Sighing deeply, she forced away the pain as best she could, wishing she could do more than ignore that which just wouldn't go away. The only way she could think of was to turn her attention solely to Eric, for he was the one on her doorstep, not Jake.

And he looked almost as though he were ready to bolt at any second. Mildly uncomfortable didn't even cover it; he looked as though something were eating him alive, and Calleigh felt her Southern upbringing rise up within her - she wanted to take him in, take care of him for a little while. "Why don't you come inside?" Calleigh suggested softly, holding the door open for him. Eric hesitated, feeling the words of the letter he'd just handed her burning upon his mind. And yet, the way she looked at him now with those beautiful emerald eyes of hers burned upon his heart, an invitation he wasn't sure he'd ever have the power to resist.

He let out a deep breath, shifting on his feet. "Calleigh…"

Calleigh gave another forced smile, and Eric found himself dying to know what troubled her now. "Come in," she repeated, just barely resisting the urge to reach out to him. "You look…" Pausing, she bit at her lip, choosing not to finish that particular thought. _Rough _was the perfect word to describe his appearance, and yet, at the same time it just didn't fit at all. "Come on," she continued, taking a step back, "let me fix you something to eat, maybe a drink, something like that." She smiled. "It's the least I can do at two in the morning," she quipped.

Eric couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Southern hospitality knows no bedtime, huh?" he teased, feeling just a bit lighter as he stepped over the threshold.

"Of course not," Calleigh smirked, securely closing the door behind him. "Come on," she beckoned, leading him toward the kitchen.

The scent of everything he knew to be Calleigh surrounded him completely, almost overwhelming him. Vanilla, strawberry, coconut...it was all there, all mixing so harmoniously into a unique scent that was only Calleigh. His feet carried him to the kitchen of their own accord; in this moment, Eric had no control over his own motions, so enthralled was he. He lowered himself into one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, struggling to pull himself out of his imagination in order to concentrate on Calleigh's words. "_Are_ you hungry?" she asked, almost as though it were two in the afternoon rather than two in the morning, and Eric smiled, watching her move through the kitchen. "I can heat up some leftovers – I had some homemade chili left over from the other night; I can heat that up for you, if you'd like. Or I can fix something fresh, or maybe something else…"

There was an odd anxiety to her motions, her words, but Eric couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Chili sounds great," he affirmed softly, unable to cease the thought that chili sounded just like what he needed. Despite being in south Florida, he felt an inexplicable chill around him, a chill that had taken over him upon reading that first page of Jake's letter.

Calleigh offered him a smile as she opened the refrigerator, retrieving a fairly large Tupperware container. "It's my mom's recipe," she elaborated, setting it on the countertop. Pulling a spoon from a drawer, she removed the lid and ladled a few spoonfuls of chili into a bowl, speaking as she did. "There's just enough Cajun spice for it to have a bite, but it's also Southern enough that it's one of my favorite comfort foods."

Her hand shook as she brought the spoon out of the chili one last time, but that wasn't what caught Eric's eye. As she lifted her trembling hand, it may have been steady as could be for all Eric noticed – it was difficult for him to notice much of anything else when the spoon touched her lips, her tongue swirling innocently around it. He swallowed, unable to keep from staring, even when she met his gaze, suddenly startled by his scrutiny.

And that only worsened her anxiety. Tossing the spoon in the sink, Calleigh avoided his eyes as she carried the bowl to the microwave, quickly popping it inside and pressing the necessary buttons. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked, making her way back to the refrigerator. "Tea, water, soda, or something stronger, maybe?" Her own eyes fell upon the half-empty bottle of wine she'd opened earlier in the evening, and she found herself fighting internally with herself to leave it there. It wasn't often that she could understand the addiction that had befallen her father, but with every day that had passed in the past year, Calleigh had found herself sympathizing just a bit more than before. After all, the stress was killing her; all she'd wanted tonight was something to numb the pain herself.

She busied herself with pouring the glass of tea that Eric had requested, only briefly meeting his eyes as she passed it across the counter to him. She could feel his eyes on her, had felt them on her ever since she opened the door to him, and it only unnerved her more. What was he doing there in the middle of the night? Surely it wasn't just to bring her that letter from Jake – the one she resolutely pushed from her mind; she was _not_ going to linger on that tonight. Or ever, preferably. If that were Eric's only reason for stopping by, he could've easily slipped it into her locker at work, or even waited and given it to her at work in the morning. But no, he'd made the drive all the way to her place, at two in the morning, and that wasn't exactly a short drive.

The questions filled her mind as she opened the microwave, gingerly touching the hot bowl inside. Not too hot, she decided, wrapping her bare hands around it without a second thought, the potholder she'd pulled from a drawer forgotten on the countertop.

It seemed her mind had been working slowly for months now; Calleigh was to the point where she thought nothing of it until it was too late.

And in this instance, too late happened to be the moment she was halfway across the kitchen, the moment that the heat of the bowl – suddenly fire hot to her delayed sensory perception – seared through her palms, her fingers. She tried to quicken her steps, but it wasn't enough. With a quiet yelp of pain, she was unable to control her most primitive of instincts, the same instinct of a child reaching up to touch a hot stove for the first time. Her hands were burning, and her mind was screaming just one simple, undeniable command: _let go._

In a flash, Eric was out of his seat. But even he wasn't fast enough; as though yanked from her grasp by none other than gravity, the hot bowl of chili fell from her hands, crashing to the floor below, leaving the linoleum bathed in a sea of chili and broken glass. "Damn it!" Calleigh hissed quietly, clenching her stinging hands in frustration.

Before she could even say another word, Eric was on the ground, gingerly collecting the largest of the glass shards. "I'm sorry, Eric," she murmured, knowing she should stoop to help him, but unable to make herself move.

Her heart was pounding, her breath quickened. She felt out of control, suddenly lost in a storm of emotions she couldn't control. But more than that, as she gazed down at the shards of glass below, she felt as though it was so much more than just the bowl that had broken. Her will, her resolve, her emotional stronghold…all of them had been eroded away at for months, and now Calleigh abruptly felt as though she'd leapt from the breaking point. She'd been raw on the phone with Evan, but now she felt as though everything was crumbling as she stood trembling in her kitchen. "Eric, I…"

His movements were quick, his fingers carefully skimming the linoleum. "I think that's all the glass," he murmured, standing again. Deftly he tossed the glass in the garbage and quickly ran his hands beneath the faucet. "Even so, be careful in here," he directed. He nodded downward to where Calleigh's slippered feet remained, holding her all but petrified to the spot. "I'd keep those cute slippers on if I were you," he teased.

But even his playful remark failed to get a smile from Calleigh. "I'm sorry," she repeated again, lifting her hands to rake her fingers through her hair. "I don't know…"

Eric sighed, offering a smile that under another circumstance might've set butterflies loose in Calleigh's stomach. "Don't worry about it, Cal," he assured, his eyes scanning the kitchen for any sign of paper towels. "I wasn't really that hungry anyway," he quipped. Calleigh nodded absently, and Eric opened a couple of cabinets, still searching. "Where are your paper towels?" he asked, relieved to finally pull a different response from Calleigh.

She bit at her lip, turning slowly to face him. "I – I don't have anymore," she murmured quietly, shrugging her shoulders. "They – they're on my list, but I was too tired to stop by the store on my way home today."

She was still visibly unnerved, and Eric had the sneaking suspicion that she was seconds away from apologizing again. Taking a step closer to her, Eric shook his head, gently laying his hands on her shoulders. "Not a problem," he said softly, using all of his strength to keep from drawing her into his arms. He frowned, feeling her tremble beneath his touch. "Calleigh…"

Lifting her head, she couldn't help but meet his caring eyes, though as the flash of recognition flickered through them, Calleigh found herself diverting her gaze again. But this time, she felt his fingers beneath her chin, gently tilting her head back upward, knowing it was all too clear to him why she was so out of it tonight. He cupped her face with his soft touch, his thumb gently caressing her cheek, following what Calleigh knew were the dried paths of the few tears she'd allowed herself on the phone with her brother. "Have you been crying?" he asked, almost too softly, his voice making her want his arms around her.

She felt the characteristic rush of heat to her cheeks, but Calleigh bit hard at the inside of her cheek, willing herself not to give in. "I'm fine, Eric," she murmured, though her voice lacked the conviction she'd attempted to summon. "It's just been a long day, and talking to Evan…" she trailed off, knowing that was a realm of privacy she wasn't ready to let anyone into.

She could feel the comforting warmth radiating from him, leaving her with the sudden urge to burrow against him, her face against his chest. She craved that freedom, the ability to simply fall into his arms, feeling them wrap securely around her; _knowing_ they would, if only she'd give him the chance. "I'm okay; I promise…I should get this cleaned up…"

No sooner than the words had left her mouth, her breath caught in her throat. She stood, unable to move as Eric softly brushed his lips over her forehead, depositing one slow, lingering kiss to her skin. "I've got this," he murmured, his hands gently trailing down over her arms, eventually finding both of Calleigh's hands and enveloping them softly. "You should run your hands under some cool water," he suggested, waiting for Calleigh's slow nod before continuing. "I'll take care of this."

"Eric –"

"Really, Cal," he interrupted, offering her a smile. "I've got it." Pausing, he surveyed the mess on the floor, pursing his lips in thought. "Do you have any old towels or anything?"

Calleigh hesitated for a moment, trying to regain her bearings. Eric had thrown all sense of personal space out the window, and even Calleigh couldn't deny that it felt nice to be close to somebody. But before she could grow too used to it, he released her hands, slowly watching the floor below as he stepped back. "Uh, yeah," Calleigh stammered, letting out a deep breath as she turned toward the sink. "I keep them in my bathroom," she said, gingerly twisting the faucet. It wasn't that she was _burned_, exactly, but the stinging wasn't exactly pleasant.

Eric was right; the cool spray was soothing to her hands, though really, she shouldn't have doubted. "Just, uh, go down the hallway; last door on the right," she began, closing her eyes as some of the irritation began to subside. "Then just go into my bathroom – behind the door is a set of shelves. The older towels are on the top shelf, probably on the bottom of the stack," she instructed, not quite conceiving the intimacy of her request until Eric repeated the location back to her.

"Your bathroom?" he asked, watching her. "Master bathroom?"

Quickly she nodded, her eyes fixed on the spray of cool water. "Down the hall and to the right; just go on in," she repeated, mentally drawing up the picture of her bathroom in her mind, making sure there was nothing in sight that could make things any more awkward. No sexy lingerie or anything lying around – she hadn't had use for that in months. Other than that, she couldn't think of anything; nothing out in the open, at least. Holding her breath, she waited until she was sure Eric was gone before releasing it, finally allowing her shoulders to slump from the tense posture she'd adopted. "Get a grip," she murmured, quietly berating herself for the show of…she wasn't quite sure what it was. Pain? Weakness? Vulnerability? Distraction? It was something, and letting Eric see that wasn't something she'd particularly wanted.

Out in the hallway, Eric's steps unconsciously grew slower, more timid as he crept farther and farther into the depth of her home. He'd been in her kitchen, her living room, and her second bathroom numerous times, but that was the extent of it. This was different; this was her bedroom, her master bathroom, and Eric couldn't force back the sense of trepidation that fell over him as he breathed in deeply – a mistake, seeing as it only brought an even more concentrated uniquely-Calleigh scent to his nose, leaving him once more dizzy - and finally crossed the threshold to her bedroom.

It was her private sanctuary, and Eric couldn't help but feel as though he didn't quite belong there, almost as though he were intruding into her personal space. The sweet scent that had accosted him as soon as he'd walked in the front door seemed to have grown a hundredfold – even more prominent than it had been in the doorway - as he made his way to her bathroom, decidedly not glancing in the direction of her bed. It was bad enough that he could already see in his mind the visions he wished were more than just visions; he didn't need to cement the perfect setting into his mind as well. He was already haunted during the late nights with dreams of simply cuddling with her on the couch, beneath the throw blanket he'd slept under during the nights so long ago that he'd slept on her couch.

Without much difficulty, Eric found himself in her bathroom, collecting the old towels that she had instructed him to get. They were right where she'd said they'd be; there was nothing difficult about that. But as he turned to head back out again, one of the towels fell from his grasp, landing limply on the floor below.

Bending over to retrieve it was not a problem.

Placing it neatly back on top of the others in his hands was not a problem either.

The problem, however, lay innocuously on the countertop, just next to the sink. And as Eric's eyes slowly took it in, he felt his heart plummet all the way to his feet. Right there, on the countertop, was the one object that could easily destroy every dream Eric had ever had. It left him feeling so nauseated, yet still he couldn't help but stare it down, as though he could frighten it into disappearing when Eric himself was the one who felt like disappearing. It was all he could do to keep the towels in his arms from tumbling to the floor below as he took in the colorful lettering on the box before him.

_Pregnancy test._

It was only an empty box, and Eric couldn't help the rush of questions that poured through his mind. Had Calleigh taken it? How long had she suspected she could be pregnant – did she really suspect it at all? _Was_ she pregnant? Had she seen the little plus sign on the test after the required five minute wait? A negative sign? Did the answer excite her? Comfort her? Devastate her?

Did Jake know?

Jake.

And there was the surge of jealousy that Eric couldn't quite hold back. Having a family with Calleigh…it was everything he dreamed of. There was a fifty-percent chance that Jake could have that instead, and yet, he was nowhere to be found. He didn't give a damn, and yet he still was the one who got it all.

Bitterly, Eric tossed the box blindly back at the counter, making a hasty retreat with the towels before he plunged himself into more nauseated misery. But even with the box out of sight, Eric couldn't bite back the bitter taste at the back of his throat. It burned him to have confirmation that Jake and Calleigh were actually…_intimate_, but to imagine her carrying his child?

The letter.

Conversations that had shown a greater depth to the other man.

A baby? A family?

And suddenly Eric found himself suffocated by the vision, the vivid imagery - visual, sensory, _everything._ It nearly brought him to his knees right there in Calleigh's bathroom, surrounded only by the neutral, calm tiles, his only cushions the towels he clutched fiercely against his chest.

But it was none of that which Eric saw now. Blue skies, white sand, no line on the horizon where the sea and heavens met. He could feel the heat of the sun baking his skin; could smell the heavy salt in the air, mixing with the characteristic scent of tanning oils. He could feel the breeze licking at his body, though soothe him it did not, for Eric was far beyond that.

He was invisible, merely a spectator in a moment belonging not to him. It belonged to the small family beneath a blue and green umbrella, a family made up of the woman of his dreams and the bane of his current existence. And there between them, placing the finishing touches on a sandcastle to rival some of the best he'd seen, was a small blonde girl in a light pink sunhat.

She was so clearly Calleigh's daughter – Eric could pick out that particular shade of blonde in a crowd of millions – and if she had to be Calleigh's daughter, she was also the man's daughter – Jake's daughter. And sure enough, as the other man's name flashed through Eric's head, he turned, a spark of surprise flitting through his eyes. But before Eric could linger on it, Jake had caught the little girl's attention.

For a brief second, there was nothing.

And then the little girl was racing toward him, skipping along the warm sand as her sunhat flew through the air behind her, landing deftly in Jake's skillful hands. But Eric saw not that – all he could see was the little girl rushing toward him, a smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes, and Eric couldn't help but hold his breath.

One second. Two. A third passed, and Eric closed his eyes, swallowing in anticipation. Maybe he'd been wrong after all…

But as he waited, he felt nothing; nothing at all. Opening his eyes again, he glanced down just in time to see the child run right through the transparency of his form, only to come to a stop four steps behind him, just in front of the approaching ice cream cart. She had never really seen him at all – he didn't exist.

The vision – another hallucination, Eric couldn't help but wonder – left him shuddering, suddenly grateful that the chili had ended up on Calleigh's kitchen floor instead of in his stomach. He bit forcefully at the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood, but that Eric didn't care about. The pain was better than the empty ache that filled the rest of his being, most definitely.

His hands trembled, and Eric loosened his grasp on the towels, having unconsciously taken them in a white-knuckled grip. With a final furtive glance back, he reached out for the light once more, plunging the bathroom – and his dread – back into darkness as he slowly began to make his way back to the kitchen. "Hey, Cal?" he called out just before he entered, so as not to startle her. Pausing for a second, he allowed himself a few deep breaths, trying to force the bitterness, the heartache out of his voice. "I wasn't really sure, so I just grabbed a few…"

Calleigh nodded quickly, barely affording him a glance. "Those are fine…" She moved to take them from his arms, but Eric turned away, lifting a brow. "Eric."

Eric forced a smile. "I told you; I've got this," he insisted, holding the towels close to his chest.

But Calleigh wasn't having that. Shaking her head, she reached out anyway, her fingers brushing his arm as she tugged one of the towels from his grasp. "You can _help_ me, but you're not cleaning up the mess _I_ made in _my_ house," she said defiantly, leaving Eric no choice but to concede.

The silence that fell around them as they worked was indecipherable; Eric couldn't tell whether it was companionable or awkward. He knew which it was from his end; how could things _not_ suddenly be awkward between them after what he'd just seen? Stealing glances at the beautiful blonde, Eric couldn't help but try to put the clues together in his head. She was exhausted; she wasn't sleeping. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her eat anything substantial. Above all, she just wasn't herself lately, and while Eric had attributed it to Jake in the beginning, there was a lot now that was suddenly making a lot more sense to him. And he hated it.

It proved to be far too agonizing for his heart to handle, at least for now, and so Eric forced it away, concentrating on wiping up the last of the chili that had spilled to the ground. The kitchen floor was almost like new again; not CSI clean, by any means, but it would last for the night. Almost as though reading his mind, Calleigh gave a quiet chuckle, wiping away at one last spot. "It probably would've been ten times easier if I'd just gotten out the mop," she muttered, frowning, "but I just…"

Eric smiled softly, filling in the answer for her. "Too tired to deal with all that tonight?"

"Yeah, exactly." Leaning back against the cabinets, Calleigh let out a breath, brushing her hair back from her face. "I'll deal with that tomorrow," she added, reaching up to drop her towel in the sink.

Eric rose to his feet and dropped his own towel in the sink, taking a moment to run water and a bit of detergent over them. "Just to let those soak for awhile," he explained, drying his hands and lowering himself to the floor next to Calleigh.

And finally, Calleigh buried her face in her hands, letting out a quiet laugh."This is so ridiculous," she murmured, rubbing amusedly at her tired eyes. "I'm sorry, Eric."

To her reaction, Eric couldn't help but give a chuckle of his own. "Nah, don't worry about it," he said dismissively, stretching his arms. "Can't say I was really that hungry to begin with…" To begin with, sure, but after his little trek to her bathroom, nausea had trumped any hunger he felt. Attempting a sense of normalcy, he playfully nudged his elbow against her side. "It's not like I came over here expecting to be fed anyway," he quipped.

Calleigh smirked. "Good thing, that," she agreed, chuckling along with him. "I just…I don't know what happened though," she continued, serious once more.

Eric shrugged, and before he could fully realize it, he was reaching out to her, taking her tiny hand in his. Ever gently, he traced his thumb over her upward facing palm, the motion nearly hypnotizing to his own eyes. "It was hot," he murmured. "You burned yourself…"

But still Calleigh shook her head, and whether from the wine, or the lateness of the hour and her exhaustion, or from the emotional toll the conversation with her brother had taken on her – or perhaps a combination of all three – she couldn't keep the words from flowing, seemingly unable to leave the explanation as simple as the one Eric had suggested. "It wasn't even _that_ hot…" She shook her head again before resting it against the cabinet behind her, her eyes toward the ceiling. "I just…I don't _know_ anymore, Eric."

She tugged lightly at her hand, and reluctantly Eric released it, watching carefully as she brought her knees in toward her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She looked so small, so fragile, and yet, so beautiful. The way she nibbled at her lip drove him crazy, and Eric glanced momentarily away, licking his suddenly parched lips. "Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?" he asked quietly, more than certain that he already knew the answer.

But before Calleigh could answer, there was something that Eric needed to get out in the open first. "Do you even know how much you're scaring me?" he asked softly, his own eyes focused forcefully on the linoleum. "I always felt like I could read you, you know? I mean, not what was going through your mind or the reasons behind your decisions, but I always felt like I _knew_ when something wasn't right. I _knew _when you were agitated, or angry, or hurt, or worried…all of that. There were just little things that were always a dead giveaway, like the way you twirled your hair, or the way you tapped your foot on the ground, or the way you fidgeted with your fingers…" He stopped, knowing he could quickly derail the whole point of his confession if he wasn't careful. "My point is, I just can't tell anymore, because you _stay _like that…"

Eric paused, letting out a deep breath as his words sank in. "You've _been_ scaring me, for a long time," he continued after a moment, clasping his hands together to stop himself from reaching out to her. He wanted, _needed_ to touch her, and she was just close enough to him that he wasn't sure he could resist. He could feel the heat of her body; he could smell the scent of her shampoo, and it was enough to drive him mad, but still Eric fought against it. "I know we had this – this _discussion_," he emphasized, referring to the argument they'd had just days before at a crime scene, "a few days ago, but it doesn't mean I like it any more than you do. You can't talk to me; I can't talk to you. It feels like we've lost a huge piece of who we used to be, and I – I miss that."

For a moment, Calleigh was silent, staring down at her hands as she felt the depth of his words. "It's not like I want it to be this way," she whispered finally, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground; she could feel Eric's eyes on her, the intensity burning through her. "It's just – what am I supposed to do, Eric?" she asked helplessly, shaking her head slightly. "I just…sometimes I just wish we could go back; before Jake, before the shooting. We were good then; things were never…like they are now, I guess. I don't – I don't know how to deal with all of this."

The weight of her confession was not lost on Eric, and that was the final straw for him. He couldn't sit there, their bodies touching just slightly, and _not_ wrap an arm around her. And that was exactly what he did. She stiffened, but otherwise didn't fight as he pulled her closer, offering her a shoulder to burrow against should she feel she needed that. He wouldn't know for how long he held her like that until finally she broke the silence again, her voice strangely thickened. "God, I'm such a mess," she groaned, her eyes defiantly downward. "There's no other way to put it; my life is just…" Trailing into another groan, she shook her head, raking her fingers through her hair. "And I can't even remember when it all _became_ so damn complicated…"

It seemed as though she were contradicting her own previous statement about going back, but it served only to prove to Eric just how lost she really was. "It's not been an easy year," he murmured, feeling her nod in agreement. "It gets better, though."

Biting at her lip, Calleigh kept her thoughts to herself. His words might've been the truth for him, but Calleigh just couldn't apply them to her own situation. If anything, it was the exact opposite. She knew the healing process was a long and difficult road, having been through it enough in her life, but this was just _different._ The more time that passed, the more lost Calleigh felt. None of the pain was easing, and not only was she _not_ sleeping, but she'd started to fight sleep as well, fearing the dreams that would come to her.

_They_ certainly weren't growing any less intense, that was for sure. The colors were brighter; the sounds clearer, and Calleigh often woke disoriented because she'd been so sure the dream was her life. They troubled her, the dreams, all of them. The Hailey dreams, the Jake dreams, the Eric dreams…there were just too many of them; too many dreams, no explanations.

Sighing, Calleigh shifted against him, her body stiffening involuntarily as he tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer to him. It wasn't very comfortable given the direction her confession was about to take – she couldn't pull away from him, not easily, at least. But as long as they were like this, she didn't have to look into his eyes, which was a plus in her mind. "Can I ask you something?" she asked quietly, her fingers plucking absently at a strand on her robe.

And then she felt the one sensation that left her heart pounding in a growing panic – Eric turned his head, pressing the lightest of kisses into her hair. "You can ask me anything," he murmured.

Calleigh swallowed, suddenly feeling as though she'd jumped too quickly into unfamiliar territory. But back down she didn't; talking to Evan had helped, perhaps talking to Eric could have the same effect. "Do you - do you ever have dreams?" she asked cautiously, her eyes straight ahead.

For a moment, Eric was silent, attempting to grasp the sheer gravity of her question – it wasn't just a normal, conversational question, not in the way she'd posed it. "I'm going to assume you don't mean the kinds of dreams where you're flying, or falling…" he said after a moment, his quiet voice seeming so loud in the silence of the kitchen. Suddenly sheepish, Calleigh didn't reply, though Eric could feel the tension mounting in her body. Another kiss he pressed to her head, his quiet, whisper of a plea just barely reaching her ears. "Talk to me…"

Closing her eyes, Calleigh summoned up every last bit of strength she could muster, finally discovering the courage to divulge the most private part of her mind, her dreams, for the first time aloud. "About a year ago, I started having these – these dreams," she began, absently shredding the frayed edge of her sleeve. "The kind where I wake up, and it feels like I've just had something cruelly ripped away from me, like it's all just a terrible joke my mind is playing on me while I sleep. Every one of them – they all feel so real…I can hear and smell and taste…"

Pausing, she let out a deep breath, her fingers trembling ever slightly. "Sometimes I see – I see this little girl," she admitted, her eyes glazing over as she recalled the visions of Hailey, visions she'd safely locked away in her mind. The tiny blonde played freely before her mind's eye now, and Calleigh couldn't help but feel a fresh burst of heartache, longing. "Long blonde hair, _gorgeous_ brown eyes." With that, Calleigh pulled free of him, lifting her eyes to Eric's. She searched the dark orbs, finding compassion and affection and warmth, but not the answers which she so desperately needed. "I just…I feel connected, and it doesn't make any sense…"

She ducked her head once more, eyes defiantly to the linoleum. "Part of me feels like _she's _the piece of the puzzle that I'm missing, but I – I don't even really know who she is," she trailed off, the final words clearly a lie. Calleigh knew exactly who Hailey Jade was, but saying it aloud, granting life to the words when she still couldn't see the girl's father, it just wasn't something she could do. "It feels so real," she continued, her eyes downward. "But I know it's only a dream. I know because I – I feel like I have everything I could ever need. I'm – I'm happy…"

She didn't finish the thought, but as she nibbled anxiously at her lip, Eric knew exactly where it led. "And you're not now," he appended softly, automatically pulling her close again as she lay her head on his shoulder once more.

Calleigh closed her eyes, finding herself unable to answer that directly. "It doesn't matter whether I am or not, now, at least," she diverted. "I think I was before…" Trailing off, she gave Eric not the chance to dispute or question, simply diving into the very next thought that filled her mind. "Sometimes I dream of Jake…"

And just like that, the dagger twisted once more in her heart, and Calleigh found she couldn't carry the admission farther than that. Those were dreams that, while just as vivid and as real as the Hailey dreams, Calleigh tended to keep them locked away, choosing not to linger upon them once she'd pulled her tired body from the bed. It wouldn't change a thing, she reasoned. Thinking about them only left her in more pain; there was no way she could speak of them aloud.

But before she could end the conversation there, she found that her words were carrying on in a different direction, almost as though bubbling from her lips, no longer quite sure why she was saying all of this to him in the first place. "And sometimes, I dream of you…" Calleigh paused, holding her head in her hands as she fought back the wave of impending nausea. "It's never the same dream, but the ending never changes. I see you, on the table in the ER. Rushing into a burning building, just before it explodes. Taking four bullets to your chest just feet from where I stand. And I – I just _stand _there, unable to do anything." Pausing, Calleigh lifted a trembling hand, discreetly wiping at the moisture that had accumulated in her eyes. "I can't make your heart beat. I can't hold you back. I can't _save_ you…no matter what try, it's never going to be good enough; it's not what you need."

And then Eric could no longer hold back. Slowly, he draped one arm around her shoulders, a gentle whisper leaving his lips as he pulled her close, letting her burrow against him. "There's – there's always so, _so_ much blood," she continued, her voice fading into a mere whisper, almost as though she were no longer speaking directly to him. Eric had the vague sense that she had retreated within her mind, unwillingly lost inside a horrific vision with no escape. "I can _never_ save you…I lose you _every single time."_

He could sense her panic; could feel the quickening of her breath and knew her heart had to be pounding as well. Unsure of whether it was for his or her benefit, he shifted slightly on the floor, bringing both of his arms snugly around her small frame. "It's just a nightmare," he soothed, touching his lips to her hair. "You've _never_ lost me…"

"I know," she whispered, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. She couldn't bring herself to voice the greatest of her fears, though even silenced, it squeezed her heart in a vicegrip, leaving her shuddering and struggling for control. If that was just a nightmare, then the dreams of Hailey could easily be written off as mere dreams. To mean anything, they both had to mean something in her mind; if one was a dream, it made no sense for the other to be real, leaving Calleigh struggling to regain her breath. The explanation Eric had given her had seemed to open up another doorway, clearing the fog and revealing an answer Calleigh wished she'd never found at all.

It couldn't mean that, though, could it?

The answer was supposed to clear _everything_ up for her. Everything she'd felt in the past year was supposed to come full circle, leaving her feeling satisfied and happy and finally certain of where her heart lay.

It wasn't supposed to leave her nauseated and out of breath, panicky and tremulous. It wasn't supposed to instill a fear deep within her, a fear that left her cold and clammy, her head spinning as the implications made themselves blindingly clear.

_Lose Eric to gain Hailey?_

That _couldn't_ be it; it _couldn't_.

As though sensing her internal debate, Eric brushed his lips over her forehead, wishing he could be the one to chase the shadows away for her, but knowing that she had to be the one to do it. He opened his mouth, searching for some way to express that he'd always be there, _always_, but the words died on his tongue as she pulled away from him, away but not out of his arms, brushing her hair back from her face. Her eyes were reddened; she looked so fragile, and Eric felt his heart break right there. She'd never done anything to deserve this kind of pain.

_Not even breaking _your_ heart?_

The errant thought had no rightful place in his mind, and with an internal growl he forced it away, shameful for even allowing it to take form. For lack of something else to do, he brushed his lips against her forehead again, feeling her shiver in his arms. But from cold or pain or want, he knew not, for at that moment she lifted her eyes to his, the rawness present in them short-circuiting every signal in his brain.

In reality, she had shared very little with him, and yet, Calleigh felt as though she'd torn her entire heart and soul out, laying them out before him for his perusal. She throbbed numbly, the contradiction the only way she could describe the dull yet sharp ache.

His breath tickled her skin, the first major implication of his closeness to her, and if she could ignore the ceaseless aching of everything else, she couldn't deny that it felt rather nice. Being held. Cared for. Cuddled. Not that she would ever admit it out loud, but it _did_ feel nice, nice enough to coax a shiver from her.

And just like that, despite the painful revelations she had made to him, Calleigh felt a certain hyperawareness begin to set in to her nerves, awakening a physical response from which she had been starved. His arms were around her, and what had felt almost suffocating before suddenly felt like not enough. She _wanted_ to be comforted; she _wanted_ to surrender to that sense of refuge from the storm that she so often refused to seek in anyone other than herself.

The confusion rose up within her, driven by the combinations of every emotion coursing through her. It felt nice, the way he held her as though she were the only woman who'd ever mattered to him, and yet, Calleigh couldn't fight away the nagging uncertainty that nibbled away at her, clouding her mind, her heart with shadows.

But it seemed everything in her life was one big uncertainty, one tangled heap of confusion.

And Calleigh was _tired._

Of fighting, of aching, of feeling…she wasn't quite sure what. She was just tired.

And with that in mind, Calleigh made the one move that brought her past the point of no return. Lost within too many sensations, too many fears and doubts, too many warring feelings, she lifted her eyes to his, their foreheads almost touching. Her gaze locked immediately with his, and Calleigh found herself unable to look away. In his eyes was a soothing comfort, but the longer she gazed into his deep, dark eyes, the more unnerved Calleigh felt. Something was going to happen, whether she wanted it or not. And really, she was just as sure of the answer to that as she was sure about anything else right now. It all blurred together; her head was filled with the sensation of vertigo, but whether from the intensity in Eric's eyes or the slight buzz from the wine she'd consumed, or from something else entirely – guilt, maybe? Anxiety? Fear? A knotted, twisted block of ice in her stomach that had only grown and grown for months? Calleigh didn't know.

Briefly, Eric's eyes darted to her lips, his tongue flicking slowly over his own lips. He murmured her name softly, so low that it not only left Calleigh shivering, she couldn't stop a tiny, nearly inaudible whimper from leaving her lips. She groaned internally, knowing the sound made her sound exceptionally weak, but then again, that hardly made any difference at all now. She _was_ weak. She was broken, she was vulnerable, and she'd let Eric witness that. His fingers were rubbing slow circles along her back, her shoulders, and even through the thick fabric of her robe she could feel it. The feeling in the pit of her stomach grew with the seconds that passed, but even combined with the protests from elsewhere, she couldn't stop her mind from slowly shutting down.

One of his hands strayed forward and up, and Calleigh flinched in surprise as she felt his touch on her cheek, just fleetingly, before his fingers carefully smoothed back a lock of silky blonde. "You're beautiful," he murmured, and Calleigh fought the urge to look away, to squirm out of his grasp.

And if that hadn't been the first warning sign – _this is too soon; you're both hurting; don't let it happen like this; maybe he's not…_Calleigh forcefully shoved that thought away, though it didn't go easily – then the words she heard conjured up again in her head, words she'd heard so many months ago, should've been.

_"You are a strong, amazing, incredible, beautiful woman..."_

_Jake_.

Eric.

But how? There were _no_ more choices. She was supposed to be past that indecision; the answer was supposed to be right in front of her. Jake was allowed no more part in it; he'd forfeited that a long time ago. He'd forfeited her for his job, leaving her to pick up the pieces while Eric chose to gather those pieces she couldn't quite reach. _He'd_ gone the extra mile, whereas Jake had chosen to put literal miles between them.

So why wouldn't Jake stop invading her mind?

Eric's thumb was stroking her cheek now, and Calleigh felt the offered comfort in the gesture, though it soothed merely the surface, leaving it numbed to the pain she felt inside and only able to focus on just how close Eric was to her. _So_ close. She could smell his cologne and it overwhelmed her senses, leaving her unable to not give into those surface cravings. After all, as far as she was concerned, that was the one part of her that was thinking logically. Not her mind, not her heart, nothing else.

She would never know who moved first; he could've tilted her chin upward, or maybe she did that all on her own. Her eyes fluttered closed and mentally she constructed a wall around the part of her mind that Jake would not leave, keeping him there, ignoring his presence as she allowed her lips to meet Eric's, kissing him slowly.

One kiss became two, and two became even more as the desire to forget swamped her, leaving her grasping for whatever she thought might grant her that. His lips caressed hers with a level of skill that left her shivering, unable to do more than answer her body's request for more. Lips parted, tongues mingled, and still the ghost of what she'd had with Jake floated around her mind, leaving her giving an internal, defiant growl.

_You are not supposed to be here._

_Eric is._

And so she kissed him harder. Faster, deeper, anything she could grasp, she took. She moaned softly, feeling him bury his hands in her hair, obviously not opposed to the demanding pace she'd set. His mouth moved hungrily with hers, as though he could never get enough. And finally when oxygen became an imposition to her, she parted from his mouth, only to feel his continue along her skin. She sucked in a breath, though it was very little use to her when his lips reached her throat.

Briefly Calleigh pondered the absurdity of the moment – two best friends huddled together in the kitchen, hands wandering and limbs entangling, his mouth laving slow, languid kisses over the pulse point of her throat, leaving her gasping and whimpering, biting her lip and flexing her fingers before clutching her hands in the material of his shirt.

She knew she was flirting with danger here, but if anything, that only spurred Calleigh on more. And somewhere, she still had the slight hope that maybe she _did_ need this, and from more than just a physical standpoint. She didn't care; right now, she'd found a brief escape from the pain that had plagued her for so long; she was feeling something other than sleepless despair, something other than a numbing ache in her chest. And if that something distracted her mind, leaving all thought of Jake – _where was he? What was in that letter? Was he even alive? Dead? Near death? –_ away and outside, locked away from the current moment. That would be preferable.

But Jake had spent a number of years undercover. Even without a spare key, he'd become quite the skilled lockpick, and it seemed even his memory possessed those skills when it came to penetrating Calleigh's mind. As lost in the haze as Calleigh had become, it wasn't a haze filled simply by two; there were three of them. Jake was right there with them, just as Eric had refused to leave the back of her mind the very first night that this had begun, the night that she'd let Jake back into her life, her home. That night, the presence of a third within her mind had left her with reluctance.

But tonight, it was defiance. As easily as Jake had let go of her, she needed to do the same.

And so she tightened her grip on Eric, ignoring the dark eyes she saw in her mind and concentrating on the physical heat rushing through her body. His hands were beneath her robe now, palming the skin beneath with almost a hesitance, though it quickly disappeared when Calleigh brought her shaky hands to his abdomen, feeling the hard muscles beneath. The image quickly manifested itself in her mind, the purely physical desire to have those hard muscles moving above her in her bed, and Calleigh gave a low moan, ignoring everything but the way her body responded to him.

Who rose from the floor first, Calleigh would never know; all she knew was that everything was suddenly happening in quick succession, and she was powerless to stop it. It felt too good, too physically good, and she'd been starved for affection in her darkest hours for far too many nights. She couldn't help but let it snowball, despite the warnings thrown out by her heart, her mind. But for one night, her exhausted body was the one calling the shots over her heart and mind.

Forcefully, she blocked out all sense of logic as her robe fell carelessly to the floor in the hallway, Eric's shirt not too far behind. The warmth of his body made her shiver; she'd spent so many cold nights alone that any sense of heat would've been comforting, but when coupled by the feel of his strong arms around her, Calleigh was far too lost to protest as her body cried out for him, wanting more feeling, more warmth.

The grey tank top she slept in when she wasn't wearing one of Jake's old tees, left forgotten at the threshold of her bedroom, Eric's jeans quick to follow. Every brush of their skin, their bare abdomens, sent a rush of electricity running through her body, but it was laced with something else, something foreboding, something frightening.

Slippers. Pajama pants. Boxers. Panties. Bare skin against bare skin was all they were reduced to as Calleigh fell back onto the bed, bringing Eric with her with a force she hadn't realized she'd had. His hard body covered hers, inducing those same forbidden shivers yet again, and as he opened his eyes to gaze down at her, Calleigh swallowed hard. There was far too much reverence there. Far too much compassion. And none of it was anything Calleigh deserved, especially when it took so much of her willpower to shove away the eyes that burned in the back of her mind in order to lose herself in Eric's.

_Jake's eyes._

Eric's hands, his fingertips caressed her skin with a touch light enough to leave goosebumps, leaving her wanting more as she whimpered quietly, struggling with the visions in her mind.

_Jake's hands._

Eric's lips tracing every inch of her body, leaving her crying out to him, scraping her nails over his back.

_Jake's lips._

_No._

She gripped at his shoulders a little more forcefully than necessary, drawing him back up to her, shivering at the look of complete desire in his eyes. That wasn't something Calleigh could handle right now, and so she laced her fingers at the back of his neck, drawing his lips down to hers, kissing him hard, moaning just a little louder than necessary at the feel of his hands on her body, as though it might drown out the restless warriors fighting to the death in her mind.

"I want you _so_ badly," he murmured against her lips, punctuating each word with a kiss. The words were so full of emotion that Calleigh couldn't stop the wave of discomfort that rolled over her. She felt so exposed to him all of a sudden, but rather than follow instinct and duck her head away, she simply returned his kisses, softly murmuring his name. Her head was spinning, lost in a physically intoxicating daze; her body was simply unable to do much more than respond eagerly to him, paying utterly no heed to the questions posed by her heart, her mind.

_Do_ you want him?

Do you want _him_?

Her eyes fluttered closed, the only sound leaving her lips a low moan as their bodies were joined as one, moving together in a rhythm that Calleigh had no control of at all. She had no control over anything, not now; not what she felt, not what she saw, and especially not if the two occasionally shifted into two separate entities.

The simple fact of the matter, however, remained. Jake was gone. Eric was here, drawing the moans and sighs from her lips, planting kisses over her throat, her chin, her mouth, everywhere he could reach. He wanted her; Jake clearly didn't. Maybe he even loved her; clearly, Jake did not.

And yet, Calleigh remained conflicted.

Maybe clarity wasn't something she was ever destined to find.


	40. No Escape

**_Chapter Forty_**  
_**No Escape**  
-**  
**_

It proved to be one of the greatest physical struggles of his life, but somehow he found the strength with which to open his weary eyes. His eyelids felt as heavy as a train; the insides were rough, dry, and scratchy, giving him the distinct impression that every little movement was slowly ripping his corneas to shreds. As if that weren't bad enough, the light that filtered through to his retinas, dim and dusty though it was, only intensified the pain. His eyes watered uncontrollably, but as he tried to lift his hands to rub at them, there was only one more disastrous fact made aware to him.

Jake was trapped. His hands were tightly bound behind his back; the splintering rope dug into his skin, leaving his wrists raw and throbbing, itchy and sticky with dried blood. How long he'd been there, Jake had no idea – all he could really comprehend right now was the pain.

And _that_ was unreal. Sheer agony ripped through him, almost as though the very deepest of his muscles were slowly being consumed by a raging fire, slowly burning its way from the inside out. And in his exhaustion, Jake could do little more but cling to his newly found consciousness, letting the agony burn him alive.

His feet weren't bound like his hands, but as Jake moved them experimentally, he discovered there was very little need to restrain them – the slightest motion sent a dagger of pain through his ankle, leaving Jake biting back a cry. Broken was merely an understatement; it felt as though the bones in his foot had been completely shattered – there was no way he was walking out of there on that foot.

The sudden pain sent a flash of nausea through him, the churning acid setting his already irritated stomach aflame. He felt dizzy, more than half dead, and with a jolt he realized that was probably the point – except, without the _half_ part.

He couldn't remember a thing. Not how he'd gotten there, not what had happened. There was no telling how long he'd been out; no telling just how much time had passed. The last memory he held was a fuzzy one, almost as though from months before, and quickly Jake pushed it away from his mind. It was a memory that left him with a pain not physical, and yet it eclipsed every throbbing ache within his tired body. The last memory he had found him lying awake in a humid, stuffy room, desperate to find sleep but unable to find it. His mind was filled with thoughts, memories of _her_, and rather than comfort him as was usual, Jake found himself agonized by it.

And now, he was all but certain that he would never see her again. He would never know whether or not she'd discovered the truth; whether or not she'd found the will to open the letter he'd left her. The realizations only seemed to intensify all the pain he felt, both physical and otherwise, and Jake closed his eyes once more, allowing his throbbing head to fall heavily against his bruised shoulder, not even affording the strength to wince.

Aside from the pain, he felt as though a hazy fog had failed to lift entirely from him – he wasn't sure, but Jake had the sneaking suspicion it was coming from something within his system. But what…there was no telling. Struggling with his exhaustion, Jake slowly forced his eyes open once more, attempting to take a quick survey of his surroundings, but all he could really see was darkness, save for the dim flicker of sunlight filtering through the tiny window near the ceiling. The room was saturated with dust; visibly it floated slowly through the air, agitating Jake's lungs with every intake of air. He bit back every allergen-induced cough, though; it hurt his chest enough just to breathe – he couldn't imagine the agony that coughing would bring on.

Ignoring as best he could the ache in his neck, Jake slowly turned his head toward the small window near the ceiling on the wall to his right. It was too high to reach, and even if he could, it was barely large enough for a cat to squeeze through, so Jake knew there was no hope for escape – even if he'd had the full use of his hands and feet. The sunlight filtering in was a scattering of broken rays, but once Jake forced his eyes to adjust, he thought he could see just enough of the outside to notice grass growing just there at the window.

_Grass._

_A basement._

The realization was of little comfort to him – he had no idea where he was, but if he was in a basement, Jake had a fairly good idea of where he _wasn't._ Basements in Florida were rare – they flooded far too easily. And the air in this basement felt far too dry to him to be one of the few Florida basements – he had to be somewhere out of state.

_But which state?_

It was another in a long list of questions that Jake just couldn't answer, and with an agonized groan he allowed his head to drop to his shoulder once more, all but wishing that the pain would just consume him already. After all, it appeared that he'd finally been found out. He'd lost – yet again – the only woman he'd really ever loved. What did he have left to live for? What was stopping him from fading into the pain and simply never waking up?

A sudden flash of light broke through the unworthy shield of his eyelids, bringing a fresh prickle of moisture to his already stinging eyes. The light was only momentary, though, accompanied by a loud slam that left Jake wincing, the sound a deep roar to his aching brain.

For a moment afterward, there was merely silence.

And then Jake couldn't help but tense noticeably as the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps echoed off the cold, hard floor beneath. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as a sense of trepidation fell over him, leaving him completely unable to fool the approaching enemy. He couldn't stay still, couldn't pretend he was still knocked out. Every step startled him in his weary state; he couldn't help but jump as the man roughly grabbed a nearby chair and slammed it down right in front of him.

He didn't sit, though. Instead, there was more motion, and eventually a low light came on overhead, filling the basement with a pale, flickering glow – a dying light. Dying, just like he was about to be, Jake realized with a shudder. Knowing that trying to save himself would only prolong the agony, Jake slowly turned his head, lifting his eyes to his captor – a man named Zeke, his tired mind filled in after a moment's search. He was lower rung, several steps beneath where Jake had quickly – probably _too_ quickly – worked himself up to, but that made no difference now. Being in the hands of a lower rung member was just as bad as facing the boss himself – possibly even worse, if Zeke, like all the rest, were actively searching for ways to climb higher.

Really, no matter who was standing before him now, Jake was as good as dead. If only he could find some way of freeing his hands… He was just going to have to ignore the pain, the warm stickiness of fresh blood from the raw, reopened wounds on his wrists – he was bound tightly, but with just enough movement there was always a chance, however slim, that he could pull his hands free.

He attempted to keep the motion discreet, but Jake couldn't hold back a low hiss of pain as the rope dug into and rubbed against already battered skin. The sound echoed through the silence, and Jake felt his blood run cold, knowing by Zeke's slow grin that he had heard it. "Well, well; look who's finally awake," he murmured, slow footsteps bringing him near to Jake once more, though he ignored the chair he'd previously set out. "I knew you wouldn't be out for too long," he continued, smirking. "We didn't give you _that_ much, after all. I mean, you've got a good twenty pounds on Little J., and it would've taken three times that amount to knock him out."

Zeke paused, but Jake gave no indication that he even know what the other man was saying. And in his fuzzy state of mind, he really didn't, not completely, at least. "I've been noticing that kind of thing about you for awhile now," he continued, purposely kicking at Jake's injured foot as he paced by. Jake hissed in pain, pain so intense that it left him dizzy for a moment in the aftermath. "You're just…different. I knew it from the beginning, but when I voiced my concerns, I was just laughed at." Zeke gave a harsh bark of laughter, startling Jake. "Guess I'm the one laughing now, huh?"

Jake swallowed hard, attempting to find his voice. When he did, he could muster little more than a harsh whisper, the very words scratching roughly at his throat. "What are you talking about?"

The movement was quick, so quick that Jake barely had time to process it before he was reeling in pain, crying out from a hard punch to the jaw. His eyes watered and for a moment all he could see were stars in his vision. When those had cleared, so had the smirk from Zeke's face, replaced by a loathing fire in the other man's eyes. "I'm _not_ stupid," he growled, raking a hand through his hair. "I've put up with enough of people thinking that to get where I am now; I will _not_ have that from you, you rat."

He turned then, and Jake had the impression that he was calming himself, fighting to regain his control. If Jake hadn't been in such pain, he might've smirked – he always did find it fairly easy to get under the skin of others. But any amusement he might've had dissipated as Zeke turned once more, a glittering flicker of light dancing off of the blade he'd produced from his pocket.

Zeke watched, the evil grin returning as Jake's eyes followed the knife in his hand. Lazily he twirled it with his fingers, pleased once more to have regained the upper hand. "Like I was saying before you so _rudely_ interrupted me," he paused, kicking again at Jake's foot, "I knew there was something fishy about you when you first showed up here. I just could never put my finger on it, and without any real evidence, what could I do? I mean, you did everything the rest of us did. The money, the drugs, the babes…you were _always_ right there in the middle of it all. Hell, you were the most excited about it more times than not. You were using and drinking and screwing around just like the rest of us – and you were helpful too; somehow, you _always_ knew where to get more when the supply went dry." He paused again, and Jake shuddered as the man continued to ignore the chair, instead lowering himself to the cold floor next to him. "There _is_, however, such a thing as being too helpful, having too much fun. Everybody else was just too damn fried to see it."

Jake ceased the discreet motion of his hands as Zeke's eyes trailed along his shoulder and down his bruised arm. But if he noticed what Jake was attempting to do, he made no indication of it. Instead, he merely grinned, still absently twirling his knife in his hand. "You're fishing, aren't you? Go ahead and admit it; I already know the answer."

If there was one thing Jake was painfully certain of, it was that an admission was as good as a signature to his death warrant. Pursing his lips tightly, he refused to do just that, instead keeping his eyes trained fiercely forward. A moment passed, and Zeke gave a disapproving cluck beside him. "No answer, pretty boy?" He laughed softly, reaching out to Jake. Lightly he twisted a lock of Jake's dark hair around a finger. "See, that's another problem," he murmured, feeling Jake tense. "You're _too_ pretty. Too pretty to be one of us, too pretty to be runnin' drugs out on the street. You come from somewhere, don't you?"

"We all came from somewhere," Jake muttered simply, unprepared for the spark of pain that ripped through him as Zeke yanked hard at that lock of hair, nearly tearing it straight from his head. Jake couldn't help but cry out – alone, it might not have been so bad, but when combined with the agony his entire body was currently engulfed within, it was just too much.

"Maybe so," Zeke scoffed, watching in glee as the obvious expressions of pain flitted over Jake's face. "But I can _assure_ you that none of us come from where you came from. You blended in well at the beginning, but you're just too…_pretty_, he said, using the same adjective. "You're not one of us. You're only rough on the surface; underneath, you're…you're just not one of us." He grinned, lifting his knife just so it glimmered in the low light. "It took awhile, because you're _good_. I take it you've been doing this for a long time, hmm?"

Again Jake didn't answer, but the breaking of sweat upon his forehead, be it from pain or apprehension, he was unable to hide. He closed his eyes as Zeke continued, feeling his head begin to pound from the light, despite its dullness. "A couple of nights ago, I realized something," he said with the air of one who'd figured out life's greatest puzzle. His voice was a deadly whisper, but the glee contained within was clear to anybody. "When the supplies went dry, you never once spiraled down as far as the rest of us did. You pretended, and you were damn good at it, but you were never really coming down from anything at all. You were downright calm. Either you had a secret stash somewhere that you weren't sharing with the rest of us…or else you weren't really using at all. Both of which, by the way," he added, almost as an afterthought, "carry a sentence of death, as far as I'm concerned."

Ever slowly, Zeke touched the tip of the knife to Jake's upper arm, drawing it along his tricep with force enough only to leave a faint mark. "So why don't you tell me what _really_ happened to your share?" he breathed, abruptly turning the blade and drawing it back down to Jake's elbow. Jake breathed in sharply, but there was little he could do with his hands still bound. "And while you're at it, you can tell me who it is you're working for."

Defiantly Jake kept his silence – if he was going to die anyway, he wouldn't let that be in vain. He wasn't about to take the entire investigation down with him, especially not after he'd lost everything else for it. Going down with nothing to his name had always been one of his deepest fears, and now he was staring it right in the face. He might lose his life, and he'd already lost the one thing, the one person he'd believed to be worth living for. If Jake had any say in the matter at all, he wouldn't let a third failure fall upon his head.

After all, there had to be someone left somewhere that he hadn't let down, even if it did have to be the crooks that had left him with no choice but to take this assignment.

"Silence, eh?" Zeke chuckled, teasing his knife along Jake's throat. Jake swallowed hard, though somehow he managed to keep the passive expression on his face, giving very little indication that he could sense death just around the corner. "You should know by now that silence is just as good as a confession around here…don't think I don't remember watching you hold to that very same principle just last week…"

Lightning fast, Zeke slashed the blade of his knife across Jake's shoulder, relishing in the defenseless man's startled cry. He watched, almost in fascination as the open gash quickly filled with blood, soaking the torn material of the shirt that covered Jake's upper half. "Doesn't feel too good, does it?" he breathed, smirking in delight as what little remaining color drained from Jake's face. "Now answer my question, or I'm just gonna do it again. Who are you working for? And what do you have on us?"

"You think I'm gonna tell you that?" Jake rasped, shuddering at the sensation of warm blood trickling down his arm. The metallic scent delayed not in reaching his nose, turning the acid within his stomach. He'd never been a fan of blood – ironic, since many of the scenes he'd received first call for as a homicide detective had been covered in it, but somehow in those situations he'd been able to distance himself. When it was his own blood, there was only so much distancing Jake could do, especially when he was already dizzy, already weakened.

Zeke merely laughed. "You wanna live, you will."

"What does it matter?" Jake rasped, every word a struggle. "You're going to kill me anyway…"

"True, true." Zeke grinned. "I guess you _are_ smarter than you look. Or maybe you're just pretending at that too. But I'll tell you what," he paused, again roughly grasping the back of Jake's hair. Jake gave a muffled whimper as suddenly he felt the cool metal blade pressed against his throat. "You tell me what I want to know," Zeke continued, pressing hard enough to make breathing a bit more difficult, but not hard enough to draw blood again, "and maybe I'll let _you_ decide how you die. Blade or bullet."

Despite the position he found himself in, Jake cracked a rueful smirk. "Just the two choices? You gotta do better than that to get anything outta me," he quipped, bracing himself for the coming punishment.

It came quickly as another hard fist to his jaw, and with no way to balance himself, Jake couldn't help but tumble sideways, his head hitting the hard ground with an audible thud. Gasping for air, he could do no more than lay there, slightly stunned. It was quickly followed by a hard kick to his ribcage, and Jake heard the crack of bone a mere second before the pain swamped him.

"You know, the boss put up with your smart ass attitude because you were good for something," Zeke quipped, watching as Jake shuddered from the pain. He was bruised and bloodied, and despite his anger, Zeke couldn't help but grin – he was a rat and this was exactly what the rat deserved. "But I'm not him, and you're _clearly_ nothing to us anymore. With all you know, you're not walking outta here alive, so you might as well speak like the traitor you are."

He knew not how he found the strength to defy, but somehow it was there. "I'm not telling you anything!" Jake spat, his head spinning. He was barely holding on to consciousness as it was – the pain was just that intense. But still, he knew he couldn't give in.

"You know, I had a sneaking suspicion that you'd act this way," Zeke snarled, directing a hard kick to Jake's stomach. Jake bit hard at the inside of his cheek, the metallic taste of blood adding to the nausea he felt. He hadn't thought it possible to _hurt_ even more than he'd felt before, but his entire body was on fire. It was agony; sheer agony, and he was glad he couldn't completely remember what all had been done to him before this particular meeting. He had a feeling that, just from the pain he was in now, the memories would drive him completely insane.

"I'm tired of this," Zeke growled suddenly, catching Jake's attention – what little remained – immediately. "You are nothing but a rat. Trash. Scum," he growled, punctuating each word with a kick. Jake sputtered, panicking silently at the rush of blood that left his mouth – he _knew_ that was never good. "I've got better things to be doing, and you're wasting my time."

He paused, and Jake closed his eyes, waiting for the worst. It never came, though, but as Zeke continued speaking, Jake knew he'd only been given a temporary delay. "Tell you what," he breathed, gazing in disgust at the traitor at his feet. For good measure, he forcefully brought his foot into Jake's abdomen one more time, feeling pleased with the yelp of agony the injured man gave. "I'm feeling kinda generous right now, so I'll let you lay there and think about it for awhile. And boy, you'd _better_ think about it, because when I come back…" Trailing off, he knelt at Jake's side and traced the blade of his knife along his neck, just above where he knew he'd find his carotid. "I _won't_ be alone. And I _sure_ won't walk out of here next time with you still alive. You got lucky this time."

He stood again, and with one last swift kick to the ribs, Zeke was gone.

And once more, Jake was left alone with the agony, both physical and emotional, as well as the vivid knowledge, the consuming fear of what Zeke had just promised. Jake knew all too well what these gangs did to outed spies, having been a part of it once himself.

Knowing that, Jake couldn't help but wish Zeke had just gone ahead and killed him.

**..**

The telltale ringing of her alarm filled Calleigh's ears, slowly permeating through the early morning haze in which she awoke. It was a full minute before she fully realized from where the sound originated; another minute before she managed to extend a shaky hand to silence it. An uncharacteristic darkness for the hour filled the room, leaving Calleigh wanting nothing more than to close her eyes again, but unfortunately for her, it seemed crime in Miami tended to surge on these rare overcast days.

The darkness wasn't the only oddity of the early hour. There was a lonely chill that filled every inch of her body, despite the heavy blankets that covered her body all the way to her chin. Beneath them she lay on her side, curled up protectively, and yet still she shivered uncontrollably.

Her head was pounding; a deep, angry throbbing just behind her eyes. It only emphasized the nausea that threatened to swamp her, but with what little energy she had, Calleigh forced herself to fight it back – she was much too cold to spend even a couple of moments huddled on the bathroom floor.

Clearly the wine before bed the night before had been a bad idea, but as she wracked her aching brain, Calleigh couldn't remember drinking that much at all. Or had she? She could remember the first glass, the first sip she'd taken as she'd answered her brother's call that evening. Maybe there had been a second glass poured sometime during that conversation – after all, it _had_ left her quite drained. But had there been more?

Closing her eyes, Calleigh struggled to remember the events of the evening – she'd come home from work, chosen to forgo dinner due to her unsettled stomach, then taken a long, hot bubble bath in hopes of soothing her weary body. Then Evan had called, and Eric had stopped by…

It hit her abruptly like a bag of bricks to the chest. Her eyes flew open as her stomach gave a sickening flop, and as the memories flashed in her vision, it was all she could do to keep the nausea at bay.

_Eric._

And suddenly it was washing over her like a summer rainstorm, the flood of memories from just the night before. Eric, appearing unexpectedly at her door, offering up an apology and a letter that should've never fallen into his hands. His eyes, apologetic, then caring, then concerned, then filled with warmth chased by desire. She could still feel his arms around her in the kitchen, drawing her close; close enough to feel the slow cadence of his breathing. She could feel his warmth; could feel it, but couldn't utilize it for her own shivering body.

The soft words of comfort he'd uttered to her flowed slowly back to her ears, the words that had lowered her tired defenses, letting a hidden desperation, an ignored need bubble through to the surface. She'd been vulnerable and lonely, and Calleigh had been unable to silence that need to feel as though somebody _cared_; as though somebody cared for her enough to put her first. It was a seduction to which she couldn't help but succumb the night before, but in the dreary morning light that feebly illuminated her bedroom, Calleigh felt the telltale pangs of embarrassment and guilt settle within her stomach. Needy, vulnerable, desperate – all of which she'd felt the night before; all of which were utterly unacceptable to her now.

And the consequences of succumbing to that momentary weakness…Calleigh shuddered, her mind still replaying everything in vivid color.

_His lips on hers; soft, caring, sweet. Her lips responding to his; needily, desperately, almost frantically. His fingers brushing through her blonde locks, softly caressing as though the strands were fragile, delicate, precious. The haze that surrounded her as those same fingers gently coaxed her robe open, slipping the fabric slowly away from her skin as his lips found her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. It left her head spinning wildly, the feel of cool sheets beneath her back, Eric's warm body covering hers, his face hovering mere inches above hers. Breaths mingled, lips brushed, fingers touched; whispers and sighs filled the minute space in between – it was overwhelming, and the conflicting thoughts within her rational mind were no match for the physical desire, the surge of heat that coursed through her at the feeling of being wanted – wanted first, not second after something else._

With a sense of impending dread churning her stomach, Calleigh slowly rolled onto her back, her face turning to the other side of the bed. She'd been unsure of what she would find there, unsure of what she would have to face, but what she did find had not been in her realm of possibilities.

Calleigh was alone.

The other side of the bed was empty, covers pulled up to the pillows as though no one had been there at all. But even if she'd tried to convince herself of that, it wouldn't have worked. His presence might no longer remain, but his scent, his unique scent was ever prevalent in the sheets, against the pillows…

On her own skin.

He was gone, but still oh so there, and suddenly it was more than Calleigh could handle. Throwing the covers back from her clammy body, Calleigh quickly rose, her eyes closed for a mere moment as she fought off the wave of dizziness that washed over her. She retrieved her robe and wrapped it tightly around her body as she made her way to her bathroom without a look back – she couldn't handle that.

Her conflicted thoughts followed her into the shower, the scalding spray not even enough to wash them away. It burned her skin, left it reddened and angry, but Calleigh refused to move from beneath it. It poured over her aching muscles, but even as they protested against the constant assault, Calleigh merely closed her eyes, breathing in the slightly lavender scented steam, finding that not even her favorite aromatherapy shower gel could quell the thoughts within.

_Fingertips skimming over her abdomen, splaying against her hips, tracing upward along her sides…_

Despite the hot water, Calleigh shivered, feeling every touch and every kiss even more viscerally than she had the night before. She'd been lost in a distracted haze the night before; her mind had been elsewhere, numbed by the wine she'd had – she _still_ couldn't remember more than the two glasses, though. But then again, it had never taken much with her…

A wave of nausea washed over her, but Calleigh forced it back, concentrating on motions she barely gave a second thought to – it seemed, however, to take so much of her energy just to shampoo and rinse her hair this morning. For a brief moment, she'd considered forgoing conditioner, until realizing it would keep her in the shower a few minutes longer – it would keep her from emerging and facing the truth for a few minutes longer.

But then again, even Calleigh had to admit that this wasn't really an escape at all. Squeezing some shower gel onto her mint green bath puff, she worked it into a lathery foam before slowly drawing it over her body. Lavender scented bubbles covered her flushed skin as she struggled to ignore the memory of Eric's body hovering over her, his slickened skin moving against hers. He'd been attentive, _so_ attentive – almost as though he'd been waiting for that moment forever, and now that he'd found himself in the midst of it, there was no way Eric was going to rush. She'd seen it in his eyes during the rare seconds she'd allowed their gazes to lock.

She'd known what he'd wanted – she'd known for a year that Eric wanted her.

For one night, he'd had her.

And now he was gone? Calleigh hadn't thought it was possible to feel any more confusion, but she was utterly drowning in it.

Maybe it was her own fault. Had her own distraction been that obvious to him? Distracted, lonely, vulnerable – they were all traits that Calleigh _never _let herself identify with, and yet, she'd been them all the night before. It wasn't completely outside the realm of reason that perhaps she'd allowed herself to become an open book to him the night before as well – had he been able to read her that easily?

Had he known what she'd struggled with?

Had he known that every kiss from him had competition from the memories of Jake in her mind? Had he known that she couldn't push Jake out of her head at all?

Had he known it'd been Jake on her mind?

If he had, then it was no wonder that he'd left her alone. Suddenly, Calleigh felt weak on her feet – if Eric had known, then she was guilty of breaking his heart. _Again._ Her own heart clenched, knowing that his heart very likely wasn't the only thing she'd broken.

The bond between them had certainly been tested in the past year; it had grown frayed and splintered and fragile, but never had it completely been broken. But as Calleigh stood beneath the water once more, rinsing the bubbles from her body, she couldn't shake the almost all-consuming fear that their bond wasn't strong enough to withstand this. There were just some events from which there was just no going back.

_"Promise me you're not going to do something you'll regret."_

Evan's words of wisdom suddenly echoed quite loudly in her ears, along with her own bitter accusations. If only she'd listened to him, _really_ listened to him on some level, despite not knowing at the time what he'd been saying, then maybe she wouldn't have found herself in this mess right now. Perhaps there would've been nothing to regret if she'd accepted the letter and sent him on his way.

But what _did_ she regret?

The answers swarmed her brain, leaving her head pounding even more so than it had been when she'd first awoken. It was easier to discern what little bit she _didn't_ regret – there was certainly less of that than there was of what she _did_ regret.

She regretted letting him in while she was little more than a vulnerable wreck – she regretted letting him see her like that; letting him assuage that need to comfort her. She regretted giving in to him, giving in to her own physical need and using it as an escape – she'd all but used _him_ as an escape.

And all at the cost of the dearest friendship she'd ever had.

And then there was Jake…

Stepping out of the shower, Calleigh shivered and quickly wrapped her largest, fluffiest towel around her body, but not even that could shield her from the sudden chill that settled over her. Even in the midst of the ever-dreaded morning after, Calleigh couldn't eradicate the other man from her mind.

With a deep sigh of frustration, Calleigh reached for the second towel on the counter, intent on working the excess water out of her hair. But her motion ceased in mid-reach as her eyes quickly scanned the counter, a burst of sudden confusion washing over her.

Something was wrong. Something was out of place – and it wasn't just the missing towels that Eric had collected for her the night before. There was something that just felt wrong, and as Calleigh allowed her eyes to skim over the counter again, it took only mere seconds before it hit her with a surge of cold dread.

She'd left it sitting upright, the front turned away from the center of the room, toward the wall – she hadn't wanted to look at it during those five agonizing minutes. She'd left it against the wall, close to the small case in which she kept her makeup neatly organized.

But now it was closer to the sink. _Much_ closer. And now it was turned on its side, laying on the counter as though tossed rather haphazardly, the two dreaded words on the front of the box glaring defiantly upward – _pregnancy test._

Closing her eyes, Calleigh fought the urge to sink to the floor below. The emotions crashing into her were overwhelming, so much that she couldn't even begin to pick them apart. Was there embarrassment over him finding the empty box and thinking she'd made a mistake? Or was there heartache in realizing that might've been part of the reason he'd left her? Or was there anger at Eric for clearly taking a clear look around her bathroom, despite the fact that she'd sent him there for towels herself? Or was it all just a nagging emptiness at the realization that she _wasn't_ pregnant – despite the fact that the timing couldn't _possibly_ be worse, Calleigh couldn't deny that she _wanted_ the daughter from her recurrent dreams. She wanted her Hailey, and the more often the dreams came and went, the more often Calleigh found herself thinking; wishing, even.

It was no question that Eric wanted kids of his own someday. He'd mentioned it aloud on more than one occasion, and there was just something about the way he interacted with the children in their cases that suggested a houseful of his own was what he really wanted. And Calleigh could see it in his eyes more and more as the days went by. The bullet to his head had been a rude awakening – he wasn't going to be here forever. Over the months that had followed, Calleigh had watched her best friend make the transformation from the smooth ladies' man he'd been before, to the sweet, thoughtful, caring Eric that he was today. She doubted whether the old Eric had really ever given a second thought to the idea of settling down someday, but the new Eric…it weighed heavily on his mind, Calleigh knew.

But was it really with her that he wanted this?

If it was, then Calleigh couldn't blame him from walking out.

Along with their friendship and his heart, there was a fair possibility that Calleigh had shattered his dreams as well.

And as Calleigh couldn't even discern how she felt about the entire situation – everything she felt had collected in a cold block of nausea in her stomach – she decided enough was enough. Defiantly she reached out for the empty box and tossed it unceremoniously to the wastebasket, hearing it hit the bottom with a soft thud. Retrieving her robe once more, she wrapped it around her body and stepped into her slippers, forgoing the rest of her morning routine in favor of starting some coffee in the kitchen. Hopefully the caffeine would ease her headache as well as her racing thoughts of confusion.

But to the kitchen Calleigh never quite made it. As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, his scent hit her immediately – his scent, and all of the memories attached to it. The touch of his fingertips, the brush of his lips, his slickened skin against hers, his arms around her as he pressed delicate kisses into her hair…suddenly, it was just _way_ too much for her. The surge of panic rose up within her again, and Calleigh could do little more than allow impulse to take over once again.

She strode to the side of the bed, and without even processing her motions she pulled at the comforter, the blankets, and the sheets, tugging them all from the bed in an attempt to regain her own control. What she needed was a new beginning, a fresh start, and she couldn't do that with any lingering memories plaguing her resting place. Quickly she stripped the bed, putting forth all of her pent-up stress into the cathartic action of removing the memories left behind. By Eric, _and _by Jake, despite the fact that she'd changed her sheets twice since the last time he'd been in her bed – she'd kept his pillow, though. But now even that followed the rest of the discarded linens, tossed blindly over her shoulders and toward the growing pile on the floor near the door.

As the final sheet was removed from the mattress, Calleigh tiredly tossed it over her shoulder toward the rest of the linens, not paying too much attention to its path. The corner of the loosely crumpled sheet caught upon the lamp on her nightstand, sending it crashing to the ground below with a thud and the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. Startled, Calleigh jumped slightly, blinking her eyes as if in a daze as she took in the mess at her feet.

First the bowl in the kitchen, and now her favorite lamp. Calleigh cursed softly, fighting back the wave of emotion that threatened to swamp her. It was absurd to her, the idea of nearly losing it over a broken lamp, but with her shaking hands and stinging eyes, even she couldn't deny that she was nearly there. Then again, it wasn't just the lamp – it was _everything._

Pausing to take a deep breath, Calleigh forced a sense of composure back within her before gingerly reaching down to the sheet. The lamp was unsalvageable; that much was clear. She could deal with that later, after she'd had her coffee and perhaps a muffin – maybe she would indulge in one of the large ones with a countless number of calories – this was the type of morning where she just didn't care. With careful hands, she lifted the sheet and slowly shook the tiny pieces of broken glass onto the floor below, grateful that she'd at least had the forethought to put her slippers on. She _was_ a CSI, but this morning, Calleigh wasn't one hundred percent sure she could deal with blood.

Crumpling the sheet once more, Calleigh prepared to toss it once more toward the small pile of linens, but she couldn't help but hesitate as a slight glimmer of gold caught her eye. Apparently the lamp wasn't the only victim the wayward sheet had taken down, and Calleigh felt her composure waver just slightly as she realized just what it was.

Among the broken glass lay the small, rounded medallion that Jake had trusted to her care, the one she'd kept on her nightstand, wanting it close but not _too_ close. Tossing the sheet away, Calleigh bent down and carefully scooped it up, unconsciously holding her breath as she examined it for scratches, dents, anything that had not been there before. There was nothing, though, as Calleigh found after a moment. It remained as pristine as ever, and Calleigh couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief as she lowered herself to the bare mattress, her legs suddenly aching – or maybe they'd grown weak, but Calleigh preferred to believe they were aching.

As she sat there taking in the silence, Calleigh slowly felt her eyes begin to water once more. For Eric, for the friendship she'd quite possibly destroyed, for the night before, for his abrupt absence and the realization that she missed him; for Jake, for the medallion in her hand that she struggled almost violently to resist the urge to loop around her neck, for the realization that she missed _him_ as well.

She'd had her lonely moments in life, but as she sat on the edge of the mattress, wrapped tightly in her robe and clutching the rounded medallion in her fingers, Calleigh knew in that moment that she felt more alone than ever before.

Fingers trembling, Calleigh slowly reached out and gingerly lay the medallion back on the nightstand, brushing her fingers lightly over it before breaking contact completely. Swallowing deeply, she reached a little farther, wrapping her fingers around her phone and flipping it open immediately. She could do very little to fix the way she felt right now – full of guilt and regret and heartache, but there was _something_ she could do.

Hitting the corresponding speed dial number and bringing the phone to her ear, Calleigh waited anxiously as the other end began to ring.

Once. Twice. A third time, and then a fourth before the call went to voicemail. Calleigh couldn't help but frown – it wasn't like him not to answer, especially not these days, but then again, she felt a strange sense of relief flood her. It was, after all, early in the morning after; her walls were not up yet and she wasn't sure she could handle speaking directly to him…but she couldn't handle _not_ speaking to him either.

So this would have to do. "Hey, Eric," she said quietly, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "It's – It's me…" Closing her eyes, Calleigh silently chastised herself for the slight warble in her voice. She _knew_ he'd be able to hear it too. "I just…I think we need to talk. About – about _everything_, not just last night –" the words escaped her in a quickened breath, hurried she was to get them out and away from her. "About everything, really. I need – we just need to _really_ talk. Call me, okay?"

Blinking rapidly, Calleigh forced back the tears that prickled the corners of her eyes, unwilling to let them fall – she was stronger than that. "And Eric," she continued, pausing to let out a slow, steadying breath, "I – I'm sorry."

With that, Calleigh ended the call, breathing in deeply as she closed her phone once more. For a moment, she simply sat there, willing her pounding heart to calm itself, willing her aching head to soothe itself, though neither result came to her. She was still much too jumpy, too agitated, and there was no amount of willing it all away that would work for her.

What she needed was a return to normalcy. If she could concentrate on her normal morning routine – which wasn't completely routine now that it involved laundry – then perhaps Calleigh could find some sense of calm; after all, she always _had_ found comfort in routine.

Normalcy was what she needed, and that meant ignoring the events of the night before, forcing them from her mind and letting them wash away with the rain that had just begun to fall outside. It meant trying to forget the breakdown she'd suffered in the kitchen; trying to forget the offered comfort from the man who had been her best friend - she hoped to God that she could still call him that. And most definitely, it meant ignoring the letter he had brought her; forgetting the fact that her fingers had itched to open it as soon as she'd retrieved Jake's medallion from the mass of broken glass. There was nothing routine about whatever he could've had to say – for the sake of normalcy, it would remain hidden in the drawer in the foyer. Returning to normalcy meant trying to forget it all.

And as Calleigh stood from the bed to resume her morning routine, she was determined to do exactly that.

Unfortunately, it was not so easy to ignore the nagging voice in the back of her mind, not when she herself knew that she'd have to face Eric eventually.


	41. No Holds Barred

**_Chapter Forty-One_**  
_**No Holds Barred**  
-**  
**_

Sometimes, Eric absolutely hated technology.

Most of the time, it was nothing less than beneficial. He hated to think how many criminals would freely walk the streets if not for the technology within the crime lab. It made communication more efficient. Without modern technology, Eric knew that the world would come to a complete standstill.

But right now, it was nothing less than confining. It was nearly impossible to detach himself when he needed it most – there was always going to be that connection. And right now, the last thing Eric wanted was to find himself grounded. He wanted to escape; he wanted to disappear. And he most certainly didn't want to face the person who had begun his wistful reflection on the pros and cons of technology by simply dialing the number he knew she'd memorized long ago.

The quiet ring at his hip had interrupted his slow walk of dejection, startling him away from the darkened thoughts that plagued his mind. The sound barely reached his ears over the rush of waves crashing against the shoreline, but once he heard it there was no mistaking it. He contemplated ignoring it, simply pressing the button that would send it directly to voicemail.

But the thought that it might be work had him lifting his phone from his hip with a groan, but only enough so that he could check the display. Unless it was work, he need not answer.

He couldn't deny that there was a part of him that _wanted_ to answer as her name flashed across the display, though. Only a small part, and it was quickly buried by the rush of anger and frustration that welled up within him.

Why would she be calling him now? He couldn't help but wonder as he clipped the still vibrating phone back to his hip, letting it ring out until his voicemail would take over. What he would do with that, though, was another question. Ignore it? Or listen? He couldn't deny that right now, a quick deletion seemed to be the recipe – he didn't want to let it linger in his voicemail, tempting and taunting him at the same time. For now, though, he decided to leave that for later – this little excursion to the beach was supposed to calm him after the whirlwind of emotions he'd awoken with this morning.

His mind, however, would not be deterred. What could Calleigh possibly be wanting now? Eric clenched his jaw as he walked, feeling the chilled, dampened sand beneath his toes. It was an equal companion to the dejected mood in which he found himself. He felt no warmth coursing through his veins; no heat in any part of his body, save for the heat of the anger that fueled him. Other than that, he felt little more than a ghost, a shadow of his former self. All that kept him ingrained with life was the pain, the sheer, agonizing heartache that he tried so desperately to ignore, to cover with harsher, more distinct emotions.

In his mind, Calleigh should have nothing left to say to him – she'd already said everything she needed to say the night before, whether or not she truly realized it. While the sight of the pregnancy test box on the bathroom counter had nearly left him running from her home, it wasn't really that at all. No, that had come much later, and waking with the memory of it had left him quietly and quickly slipping out of her bed an hour before the alarm would sound and escaping into the morning twilight. And at this point, the last thing he wanted to do was talk to her.

Offering an annoyed sneer to the phone at his hip, Eric couldn't help but find himself wanting nothing more than to banish the unforgiving device to the depths of the turbulent sea, letting the caustic salinity seep into its deepest crevices and render it unsalvageable, should anyone ever happen across it in a futile search for treasure, the likes of which he himself had never been able to find. He wanted to erase the record, remove the memory from his mind, because he knew beyond a shadow's doubt that it would revisit him again and again.

He wasn't sure if it was the money, or if it was the lack of energy and strength that kept him from doing just that, but even so, the phone remained tucked at his hip, having finally abandoned its fruitless attempt to connect the two lost souls. Instead, Eric simply drew in a heavy breath, letting the salty ocean air fill his lungs and provide him with the oxygen he'd felt unable to acquire since late last night. His path was aimless, wandering but going nowhere. Where _could_ he go, really? Certainly not back to where he had come, however much he wished that was an option. He didn't quite have the time to make it back to his place before work – he was due in little over a half hour, and, he realized with a jolt to his heart, so was _she_. Just the thought left him with a dull ache in his temple, and listlessly Eric lifted a hand, lightly massaging it.

Luckily, though, he'd awoken free of any pain related to the bullet shard in his brain; it had been one of the rare mornings he _hadn't_ woken up with his face buried against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as the throes of agony washed over him. He knew partially what had prevented that was not waking up with the brightest rays of the early morning sun in his eyes – he'd awoken well before dawn, and even now, the sky remained thickly overcast. The darkest of the clouds at this hour gathered in the northwestern sky, and Eric gave a slight shudder as his eyes were drawn that way. A storm was brewing; he could feel it, both meteorologically _and_ internally.

The drastic sense of foreshadowing that settled over him was almost enough to leave him wishing he _had_ woken with the usual headache – if, of course, he could trade everything he felt now for that.

But now, his mind kept trying to draw him back in, back into the memory that he wanted nothing more than to banish. Before he'd left, he'd allowed himself one look back to the sleeping blonde still tucked beneath the covers. Even in sleep she appeared troubled, and for a brief moment he'd allowed himself to wonder what dreams plagued her slumber. He kept drifting back to the conversation they'd shared the night before, when Calleigh had let her walls down for him; when she'd let him see what troubled her.

It was ironic – looking back, Eric realized he'd never felt closer to her. And yet, at the same time, there was no denying that he'd never been farther away from her.

With a sigh, Eric took a quick glance at his watch. If he spent any more time wandering aimlessly around the beach, attempting to process his thoughts and feelings, he'd end up late for work. And he knew there was no amount of time that would fully allow him to process it all. His feet heavy, he slowly turned and began to make his way back up the beach, feeling the first stray drops of rain begin to hit his head.

He wasn't sure what the day would bring, or even whether or not he would even see Calleigh.

He hoped he wouldn't.

And Eric sorely wished he hadn't used all of his sick days – if he had even one left with which he could guarantee not seeing her today, he knew he would take it in a heartbeat.

**..**

The morning had been blissfully busy, just the way Calleigh had hoped. On the one hand, she was buried in ballistics reports and test-fires, but on the other hand, it allowed her very little time to concentrate on anything else. But the morning had eventually come to an end, and the backlog of evidence had begun to run out, leaving Calleigh running out of cases to review. And as her mind became less absorbed by work, it left room for everything else she'd been avoiding to creep in.

And by the time her lunch break arrived, Calleigh's stomach was tied in such convoluted knots that she knew she'd never be able to keep anything down. She _knew_ there was something else that she desperately needed to take care of, and the more she thought about it, the more she utterly dreaded it. Before she could find any reason to talk herself out of it, Calleigh found that her feet were leading her, her steps in time with the deafening pounding of heart. The sound of rushing blood filled her ears, leaving her unable to process all else but that, but if anything, she was thankful for the steady rhythm – it meant she remained at least somewhat in control.

Calleigh could only pray that it would last, and pray she did as her steps took her deeper into the lab, as she grew closer and closer to finding him.

What was she going to say to him, though? Confront him for leaving before she'd awoken? She really couldn't blame him for that though, the more she thought about it. The circumstances had been dreadfully wrong, and, given the chance, Calleigh felt she might've run too.

Would she confront him for taking advantage of her? That didn't seem right – the guilt churning her stomach told her that the blame lay squarely upon her own shoulders. In the end, the best she could come up with was the apology she had crafted carefully that morning before work, the one she had rehearsed for the entire drive in. She could only cross her fingers and hope that it would all go as she had planned in her head.

Somehow, she wasn't sure Eric would be quite that forgiving, but if she had not hope, what _did_ she have?

Finally she found him in the print lab, his head down as his eyes intently studied the piece of evidence before him. For a brief moment, Calleigh found herself losing her determination, knowing that if she kept the glass walls between them, she could go on pretending that the night before had never happened; that perhaps the entire previous year had never happened.

But if _she_ pretended they'd never happened, Calleigh had a feeling that Eric would do the same. And despite what had happened, they still had to work together. And beyond all else, if at all possible, she wanted to hold onto his friendship.

It was that prospect that finally had her taking the deep breath she needed to finally push through the door, her heels clacking with a sense of foreboding on the floor below.

Eric didn't need to look up to identify his visitor – he would recognize her by her stride anywhere, although this wasn't the confident stride he was used to hearing. There was a hesitance in her steps, one he'd rarely, if _ever_ heard. She was anxious, that much was clear, but then again, Eric would find himself surprised if she _wasn't_ anxious after last night – he certainly was, after all. He did his best to conceal his own anxiety, however. He'd found himself caught in a few firefights when the tension between them had been sparked, and today wasn't a day he wanted to experience that.

She paused a few feet from the evidence table, leaving a bit more distance between them than was usual. For a moment she waited, almost as though expecting him to look up from what he was so scrupulously studying. He didn't, though, and Calleigh was unsure whether that was a blessing or a curse – on the one hand, she always found it easier to talk to him when his eyes were on her, whether she herself was meeting his eyes or not. But on the other hand, Calleigh wasn't sure she trusted herself enough to speak what was on her mind now with his eyes on her. Beyond that, she wasn't sure what she would find in his eyes, and the uncertainty frightened her.

With a deep breath, she took a single step closer, offering a smile that felt completely foreign – it didn't matter though, for he still didn't even offer her the slightest glance. "Hey," she called out tentatively. Eric's only response was a noncommittal grunt of acknowledgement, and if anything at all, it only unnerved Calleigh more. "I, uh, I tried calling you earlier…" Her voice was far from confident, but she made no effort to mask that, knowing it would be wasted effort. She wasn't sure she had that energy to begin with.

Eric's tone was unreadable – there wasn't much Calleigh could discern from it, but the chill was blindingly apparent; it was rehearsedly flat, almost as though he'd practiced until achieving just the right tone, and much colder than the warmth she was used to hearing in his voice. "I know." He hesitated for only a second before adding the obvious. "I didn't answer."

Calleigh sighed, unable to quell the sinking feeling his confirmation had given her. She was mildly offended by it – for someone who claimed to care for her, he was doing a great job of convincing her of the opposite. But then again, she realized with a vicegrip-like clench of her heart, she _had_ probably done a fantastic job of breaking his heart.

She cleared her throat, seeking any way to get his attention, but still he didn't not lift his eyes to her. "I was hoping," she began, her voice raised just a bit. But the increase in volume also led to an increase in the insecurity of her voice, and Calleigh paused for a moment, drawing in a breath to steady herself. "I was hoping that we could talk…about everything. I just really feel like there's a lot of – a lot of grey area between us right now, and I really feel like we need to straighten it out," she finished, knowing her words had slipped out in a hardly comprehensible rush.

Eric caught them all, though; that much was clear as finally he lifted his eyes to her. The deep brown orbs were cautious, guarded, and Calleigh felt the lurch of her stomach as she realized he'd shut her out, likely to protect himself. "You want…to talk," he repeated, his voice flat.

Calleigh could only nod, biting at her lip as the instinct to run gripped her hard. "Will you, uh, meet me in the gun vault in fifteen minutes?" she asked, embarrassed to find that her invitation had come out sounding more like a desperate plea.

Despite the churning emotions surrounding him, Eric found it difficult to suppress a small smirk. Trust Calleigh to move their conversation – if one could call it that – to a setting where she would feel all but comforted. Forcing himself to hold her gaze, he pondered for a moment the seriousness of the situation, what exactly she could mean when she said _talk._ "Yeah. Okay," he agreed finally, his voice noncommittal. "Fifteen minutes."

But fifteen minutes later, Calleigh stood alone in the gun vault. Even at twenty minutes, she remained alone. Twenty-one, twenty-two…she was ready to give up and slink away in defeat by the time Eric pushed his way into the vault eight minutes after he'd said he'd be there.

He didn't waste the energy to force an apologetic expression on his face. Instead he quickly muttered an apology as he closed the door behind him, locking the two of them away from the rest of the lab. Just Eric, Calleigh, and the sweltering tension that threatened to suffocate the both of them. "Sorry – I, uh, ran into Natalia on the way here – she had a few things for me to look at," he explained, giving no more detail than absolutely necessary. His nerves were jumping, and the sooner he could get out of here and back to work, the better.

Calleigh nodded tersely – the extra eight minutes, which she had counted to the last second on her watch, had been enough to destroy what little bit of calm she had left. Her stomach was twisted into knots of anguish, rolling with the sense of nausea that had become so much a part of her in recent weeks. She felt dizzy, faint, almost as though at any point she would collapse to the floor, but still Calleigh stood her ground near the center of the vault, her mind searching desperately for the speech she'd spent the entire morning crafting.

Just as uncomfortably, Eric slowly paced to the opposite side of the vault, tracing his fingers along the bars that separated him from the guns themselves. Fact was, he'd not run into Natalia at all – it had taken him the extra time to work up the nerve, and then more just to convince himself not to ignore her plea completely.

So eager to talk she'd been before, but now she simply stood with her head down, eyes quite nearly boring holes through the dusty floor below. She was tense – anyone could see that, but there was something else. She looked far more uptight than she had in a long time, and it didn't take Eric but half a second to realize why that was. That realization left him flinching, and with a deep breath, he turned to her, his back against the far wall. Far too late he realized he'd left her with a clear path to the door should she decide to run, but short of crossing the room again, there was nothing else he could do, and he didn't really want to trap her anyway. He just wanted some answers.

Seconds passed, slipping quietly into minutes as Eric watched, waiting. The open space between them seemed so vast, so unbridgeable – he _hated_ that it had become that way, but once the first bridge was burned, the fire had only spread. He didn't know how to approach her, not when both of them were as broken as they were. It agonized him to be so close yet so far away from her, clenching his heart in a plethora of emotions that'd he'd have no hope of separating and identifying. Instead of trying, he simply attempted to shove them all away, summoning the hard, outer shell that he seldom allowed to make an appearance. When he finally spoke, his words were uncharacteristically cold, harsh even to his own ears. "You know, I can't stand here all day…"

Calleigh flinched. The words had drawn her out of the protective trance she'd fallen into. Experimentally she lifted her eyes, taking in Eric's stiffened posture. There was no openness in his stance, and while Calleigh felt she should've expected that, she still couldn't avoid the stab of hurt that twisted in her heart. Above and beyond everything else, Eric had _always_ been her friend, and now, the realization that she may have finally shattered that bond into nothing was almost too much for her to bear.

Eyes defiantly downward once more, she took a deep breath, wishing for anything to stem the tension, the anxiety that surrounded her. "I wanted to – to apologize," she said finally, her voice just barely more than a whisper. "I owe you a _huge_ apology…"

Hesitating, Calleigh lifted a hand to tuck her hair behind her ears. She was alarmed at the quiver she felt within her fingers, and quickly she brought her arms back to her chest, crossing them both defensively and as an effort to still the trembling. "I am…_so_ sorry, Eric. For everything. The last thing I _ever_ wanted to do was hurt you, and it kills me that it's all I've done for over a year now. And – and last night…" Eyes down, she didn't catch Eric's flinch. "I – I never meant for that to happen," she managed, swallowing the forming lump in her throat. "I was – I was lonely and depressed last night. I _never_ meant to take advantage of having you so close to me, and I hope you don't think I did."

"You feel like _you_ took advantage of me?" Eric murmured, his voice oddly strained. He'd worried about it for a good portion of the morning – if anything, he'd thought that would cause a fight, her thinking that he'd been the one to take advantage of her. Because she _had_ been lonely; she _had_ been depressed and vulnerable. She'd said it herself. And yet she was the one taking the blame for it.

Calleigh nodded slowly, still refusing to meet his eyes. "I know how you feel, Eric," she breathed, suddenly wishing she were closer to the wall, or anything she could reach out to for support. "You – you were probably no more able to stop it than I was. I just don't want you to feel like – like any of it was your fault."

_Fault._

It was the worst choice in word that she could've come up with. Everything he might've needed to ask could be found in those simple five letters, one word assigning blame and regret, rather than accountability, or any number of more positive words. For reasons he wasn't completely willing to admit, Eric felt the anger begin to bubble up within him; hot, roiling bubbles that coursed through his veins more quickly than he could hope to quell them. He'd had a sliver of hope the night before, that maybe what had happened would prove to be a step forward for them, not a series of steps back. And even though that sliver of hope was extinguished now, there was still very little of him that would attribute what had happened as anybody's _fault._

Though he tried to push it back, the anger got the best of him, along with the feelings of deceit and betrayal which had lurked beneath the surface for over a year now. "Do you regret it?" His words were harsh, but they were gone from his lips before Eric could wish to take them back. And really, he wasn't sure he _would_ take them back. He didn't want to know, but then again, he _needed_ to know. Being with her should've cleared the fog in his mind; instead, it merely left him more confused. He had no better idea of where they stood now than he did before.

Calleigh swallowed hard, crossing her arms about her chest. The words put a sickening burn deep in her stomach, and, completely unconsciously, she took a step back. Distance between them; that was something she could control. What she couldn't control were the mix of emotions swirling around her, consuming her and leaving her raw, broken. Eric's words echoed in her ears – how was she supposed to answer that? She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she regretted the way it had happened – that much she felt she'd already made clear.

Letting out a deep breath, she forced herself to meet his eyes – those lost, agonized deep brown eyes. "I regret…that I couldn't look you in the eye and tell you to go," she replied finally, her voice lacking the steady strength she'd prayed it would hold. Eric flinched visibly, and Calleigh felt her heart clench. "I regret that I let it happen in a way that only ended with you hurt."

She stopped there, and Eric shook his head. He took a step closer to her, erasing the defensive step back she'd taken. Calleigh tensed immediately, her eyes darting to the side. "But do you regret _it_?" Eric pressed, his voice quiet.

"Eric…" Calleigh bit roughly at the inside of her cheek, searching for the words she needed to say. But they weren't there; she couldn't find them, and all she could find she knew would only hurt him more. Not to mention the pain she was inflicting upon herself – that was immense, and hearing the words aloud would only twist the knife that much deeper. Her lips parted and her lungs filled with air, almost as though preparing to speak, but there was simply nothing. Instead, the air escaped once more in a deep sigh of dejection as she drew her lips together, pursing them thoughtfully.

Open Calleigh was gone. Closed-off, evasive Calleigh had once more regained the upper hand, and suddenly, Eric felt the anger spark within him. It was an endless circle of torment she was pulling him through, one that would never find its end as long as those two sides of Calleigh warred within her. And she could stop it all, but that would require making the decision she'd refused to make.

Suddenly, Eric felt like a pawn. He felt like the piece of the puzzle Calleigh turned to when it was convenient for her; the replacement piece for the one she'd lost. He furrowed his brow, barely resisting the urge to take another step in her direction, knowing it would only cause her to run. And she'd spent far too long running for his liking. Under another circumstance, he might not be so angry; he might be willing to give her space. But now, after more than a year of this repetition, the indecision, after she'd allowed him to grasp everything he thought he'd ever wanted only to rip it right out of his hands again…after all that, Eric wasn't going to back down. He _couldn't._

"I ask you one question, and you can't even answer it." The words were quiet, almost resigned, and followed by a heavy sigh. "After all this time, Calleigh, _why_ is it still so difficult? _Why_ can't you just tell me yes or no?" He swallowed hard, feeling his heart pound against his ribcage. He knew the path he was about to take would be one he couldn't turn back from, but at this point, he had nothing. Maybe he was wrong, but he felt he deserved an answer. "Is it – is all this just a game to you? Does it amuse you or something? Dragging me along like this for over a _year_ without ever having the decency to put me out of my misery?"

Calleigh gaped. "A – a game? Eric –"

"No," Eric interjected sharply, cutting her off midsentence. "I've kept quiet all this time; the _least_ you can do for me now is to hear me out." The fire in his eyes was unmistakable, almost daring Calleigh to object. "I've _tried_ to be patient; I've _tried _to give you the time and the space that you needed. I've pushed _everything_ I wanted aside because I knew that you had to make the choice on your own. And you – you just don't." His voice was dangerously quiet, but every word rang through loud and clear to Calleigh's ears. "I've spent almost two damn years in the background, letting you run to me whenever Jake wasn't around –"

"Letting me _run_ to you?" Calleigh interrupted, her eyes wide. "You're my best friend; what was I supposed to do whenever you needed that? Was I supposed to walk away when I knew you were hurting?"

"Do you have _any_ idea how much it hurt _more_ that you _were_ there?" Eric hissed, fighting back the growing urge to clench his fists. Instead, he settled for shoving his hands in his pockets, though as agitated as he was, he doubted they'd stay there for long. "Last night just – it – I can't even _talk_ about last night, damn it," he growled, shaking his head. "I feel like you've been playing this game with me for years, even before Jake showed up."

"It has _never_ been a game –"

_"You_ kissed _me,_" he continued, his voice echoing in the small room. Swallowing hard, he attempted to lower his voice once more – despite the vault being fairly soundproof, he didn't want to take that chance. "Months ago, after I nearly blacked out in the print lab. _You_ kissed me, and –" He stopped abruptly, for the realization had just hit him square in the chest. "Because Jake was gone," he mumbled under his breath, his voice finally drifting beneath the threshold of Calleigh's hearing.

Calleigh frowned. "What?"

Derisively, Eric chuckled. "I get it now," he huffed, watching Calleigh's brow furrow with confusion. "Jake was gone when you kissed me. Jake was gone last night. You're just…you're just lonely, and I'm your damned last resort."

The anger in his voice had given way to dejection, at least for the moment, but it was long enough to stoke the fire that drove her own anger. She _knew_ all of this fell on her; did he honestly think she _didn't_ know that? Did he really think she enjoyed this? That she found glee in the pain she knew she'd been putting him through? His words set off a fresh spark of guilt within her, but defiantly Calleigh forced it away – her own guilt was enough. "Don't you _dare _do that," she spoke up, an unmistakable chill in her voice. "Don't you think I feel guilty enough? So don't you dare play that 'poor, pitiful me' card now – not after all the times you pushed me away."

"I _never _pushed you away –"

"You didn't talk to me for months after that day in the lab!" Calleigh exclaimed, exasperated. She didn't have to elaborate – Eric knew exactly to what day she referred. "You wouldn't even _look_ at me!"

"What was I supposed to do?" Eric challenged. "Was I supposed to act like nothing had happened? Like you didn't just outright _lie_ to me –"

_"Lie_ to you?" Calleigh gaped. "I never –"

"You've been lying to me ever since Jake came into the picture!" Eric continued, struggling to breathe in the suddenly much too heated vault. "And no, I don't mean simply telling me one thing then doing another," he clarified, cutting Calleigh off before she had a chance to do more than open her mouth. "Hell, maybe you don't even realize you're doing it; I don't know. But I can't take anymore of the false hope, Calleigh. I can't _handle_ that. I can't deal with you wanting to be there just to disappear as soon as _I_ decide I want you to stay." He paused, drawing in a deep breath, the daggers from his gaze warring with the daggers in hers. "You're only around until it gets too stifling for you, and then you run away. Or you run right back to Jake."

"That is _not_ true," Calleigh defended, her voice thick.

"Isn't it?" Eric lifted a brow in challenge. "Then there's only one explanation left."

"Well, then, since _you_ know me so well –"

"You're scared."

Calleigh felt her jaw drop. "Excuse me?" The words hit her deep, shocking her to the core with a cold rush that she was completely unable to deny. Desperately clinging to her composure, she dug her nails into her palms – she couldn't deny that this was not a good sign. Eric's accusations were already rattling her, and she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that this was nowhere near finished. The fuse had only just been lit. "Scared? Of what?" she scoffed.

Eric moved closer; the sudden clench of her hands had not gone unseen by him. "You're scared of making a decision, because you know that once you do, that's it. You won't have the other one to fall back on when the one you chose _deserts_ you."

"Well, that's something you'd know _all_ about, isn't it?" Calleigh shot back, unwilling to back down despite the trembling of her body. "Deserting people?" Eric's eyes widened, and Calleigh took the opening for what it was worth. "Where the hell were you when I needed someone, someone I could _trust_, after – after Tim was killed? You weren't _there_! You were never there!"

"That is rich, Calleigh," Eric scoffed, his voice almost a deadly whisper. The subject of Speedle remained a sore spot for him – he'd never really accepted his best friend's death, and now it felt as though she were throwing his actions in the wake of it back in his face, just to remove the focus from herself – another indication that she was scared. "You're the one who pulled away from me first, and you know it. I held you for hours after the funeral, feeling you do _everything_ you could to keep me from seeing you cry, and then after that, unless it had to do with work, I _never_ heard you mention his name again. You walked away from me; you ran away and locked yourself behind that damn wall that you put up whenever you think somebody might just be getting too close." He paused, the weight of his words weighing heavily on the both of them. "But maybe that's just how you work."

That stung. Calleigh couldn't help but flinch beneath his accusations, despite the truth they held. It was a low blow, and Calleigh bit at her lip, longing for the sharp stab of pain that would offset the burn she felt within. "Excuse me for not being quite as trusting as you," she retorted, unable to mask the slight tremble in her voice – she might deny it all she wanted, but Eric had hit a nerve. "But then again, maybe if _you_ were a little less trusting, you wouldn't be having all of your paychecks garnished."

Eric crossed his arms, choosing defiantly to ignore that. As if, with everything else, he needed _that_ thrown back in his face. "At least I _do_ trust. You don't trust _anybody."_

Calleigh recoiled. "How can you say that, Eric? You _know_ how much I trust you."

"I know you trust a liar more than you trust me."

The declaration left her reeling. She didn't really need Eric to remind her that she'd given her trust, not easily won, to a man who'd cared so little about it that he'd shattered it without a second thought. It infuriated her, hearing it from Eric, but more than that, it left her with an inexplicable feeling of agony, one that she didn't desire taking the time to understand from where it came.

Beyond that, however, there was another assertion in Eric's eyes. It was as if trust were the complete and final answer, and because of that, this should be one of the easiest decisions she could ever hope to make. Trust one, not the other; simple as that. Just the idea that Eric could boil it down to that one simple fact – one that wasn't so simple at all – left her seeing red.

She felt her feet draw her a step closer to Eric; the space between them was quickly dwindling now, just as quickly as the tension between them multiplied. "You know what?" she hissed, her eyes narrowed in anger and frustration. "You _really_ think this should've been _easy _for me, that I'm holding off on making that decision because I _enjoy_ this? What, do you think I wake up in the mornings and think, 'hmm, how am I going to screw with their heads today?' You actually think I hold on to the both of you for my own sick amusement?" She paused, taking in a much needed breath. She swallowed hard, fighting against every instinct within her to keep the contact between their eyes. "Do you have _any_ idea what this is doing to me? I mean, _do_ you?"

"No, I don't," Eric snapped, taking advantage of her brief pause. "Because you don't _talk_ about that."

Calleigh huffed, licking at her parched lips. He was right; she couldn't deny that. But hastily she pushed the realization away, knowing if she faltered now, she might never work up the nerve again. "You know, you said you got it, but you really, _really_ don't. You _couldn't_. Eric, look at me. I mean, really look. It – it's absolutely _killing_ me to know what I'm doing to you, to Jake. I _hate_ that it's gone on for over a year, but how am I supposed to choose between my best friend and my first love –" Eric flinched; Calleigh ignored it, forcing herself to continue on –"with just a snap of my fingers? You _don't_ know what that's like, Eric. I can't – I can't do it, knowing that whatever decision I make is going to hurt somebody –"

"So what, you'd rather just hurt yourself instead?" Eric interjected, his eyes scanning quickly over her body. "You told me to look at you – to really look. I don't need to _really_ look. You're not eating. Not sleeping. You're losing weight, you're as pale as a ghost. There's nothing – nothing _lively_ about you anymore, nothing that drew me to you in the beginning. It's like you just go through the motions of living without really doing it." He paused, softening his voice, though knowing it would last only for a moment – the emotions within him were much too churned to be quelled. "Do you have any idea what that does to me?"

The flush that had risen in her face at her anger seemed abruptly to drain, leaving her cheeks ashen and empty. With the makeup, the fake smiles, the almost impeccable attention to her work, Calleigh had thought she'd concealed the worst of her physical deterioration. She'd never wanted Eric to see her like this, so fragile and fatigued, all but broken by the emotions ravaging her both internally and externally.

And yet, Eric was in front of her, had been in front of her for almost two years professing to wanting that. Quickly Calleigh wracked her brain, thinking. The last woman she'd seen Eric with had been Natalia, and how long ago had that been? Calleigh wasn't sure, but sometime after that point, his eyes had become fixed on her, and they'd stayed fixed upon her through her lowest, most ungraceful moments. It made very little sense to Calleigh, even when her mind was not clouded with anger and confusion.

Looking at Eric…there was no doubt about it. He could _easily_ be with any woman in the city; beyond his good looks, he was an amazing man. There was no doubt in Calleigh's mind that in a relationship with him, in his mind, his own needs would come second – that much was clear every time he looked at her with those deep, dark eyes of his. The intensity was enough to leave her shivering, and it only complicated the decision that he thought should be so easy. "Can I ask you something?" she asked, the words slipping from her lips before she could begin to stop them. She didn't wait for an affirmative response, knowing she was close to losing her nerve. It was a question she wasn't sure she wanted the real answer to. "Why me?"

"What?" The words were plain enough, yet the clarity was what left Eric confused. Was she really asking that? And by asking it, was she attempting to divert him? And how could she ask that anyway? The answers swirled around his mind – she was beautiful. Intelligent. Funny. Bubbly. Incredibly sexy. Why would it _not_ be her?

Calleigh shook her head, her teeth anxiously tugging at her lip. "I just…" she trailed off, helplessly grasping for something, anything that would make this easier. The question was difficult enough the first time, but to repeat it? She wanted nothing more than to turn away and bolt. This discussion, if it could be called that at all, was clearly a bad idea. "I – I've seen you, Eric. I've gone out with you – when you and me and Tim used to go out together, just the three of us. You always had a blast, and you always had any girl you could _possibly_ want. You could _still_ have anybody you wanted…and you choose me?"

Eric swallowed hard. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

Calleigh drew in a breath. "It's just that…you had five whole years before Jake showed up," she said quietly, eyes downward. "Why now? Why only after…"

Her voice trailed off into a stiflingly uncomfortable silence, but it was clear the direction in which her thoughts diverged. Eric knew what she was thinking; could sense it all too clearly. And it ripped his heart to shreds, the idea that she thought it might not be real. But above the heartache was an intense, ever-growing anger – how dare she assume she knew how he felt? After spending over a year claiming that she knew not where her own heart lies, Calleigh was hardly qualified to tell him how he felt.

He took a step closer to her, issuing a challenge in all but a growl. "Go ahead and say it, Calleigh. Say what you want to say."

The urge to shrink into the floor below was all but consuming her, but somehow Calleigh managed to stand her ground. Her fists were clenched to fight back the trembling, but the pounding of her heart was something she couldn't control. She was quickly losing control of her breathing; it came in short, quick gasps that did little more than leave her dizzy, unable to draw in a full breath of oxygen. "You didn't –" she hesitated, taking a moment to gather her courage and drive away the mousy tremble in her voice. "You didn't see me this way until after…after you got shot."

There. The words were out in the open, and if anything, they only increased the tension threatening to choke the both of them. Eric pursed his lips, staring at her with disbelief clear in his dark eyes. "So that's your simple reasoning for it," he concluded, his voice lifting as he continued. "I only started feeling for you because I had a bullet put into my head. Is that it? Is it?"

"Eric…"

Eric scoffed at her non-answer – that was typical Calleigh. Didn't own up to it, but couldn't make herself deny it either, even after she'd said the words herself. "This shouldn't surprise me at all though, should it?" he retorted, unable to rein in his anger. It was just too much; the dam had burst, and there would be no holding back. It was dangerous, but Eric needed the liberation. Whether by anger or not, at least by the time he left the vault, he would have all of his cards on the table. This had gone on too long with him holding that back. "I keep forgetting, after all. You're Calleigh Duquesne, escapist extraordinaire – you don't like something, you write it off as having a scientific answer. I can't be in love with you because I got shot in the head. It couldn't _possibly_ be real, could it?"

His words stung her, far more deeply than she'd be willing to ever admit. "Eric, that's not fair…"

"Just as fair as you inviting me into your bed last night so you could escape from your reality." He was breathing hard now, feeling the adrenaline pumping through his body, and though he knew he might look back and regret his words, Eric found that in the heat of the moment, they simply would not stop. "Did it work? Did you forget everything you're too scared to face? Everything you're too afraid to admit?"

That was enough for Calleigh. Shaking her head, she turned to walk out, choosing not to offer Eric another word, anything else he could throw back at her. It seemed that talking hadn't been the best course of action after all; she'd thought it would help, but at this point, it appeared there was no hope for this conversation, or worse, for their friendship as a whole.

Her hand was on the door when Eric gave a derisive scoff from behind her. "Run away, Calleigh," he said quietly, knowing he was pushing too far for the both of them. "Just like you always do. You gonna run away and pretend that baby doesn't exist too?"

Calleigh froze. It was perhaps his most hard-hitting accusation yet, and it hit her with a force that left her breathless. "What – what did you say?" she asked, turning slowly back to face him.

Eric narrowed his eyes. He was unable to read the expression on her face, but he would swear that her cheeks had lost the last little bit of color they'd had. "I saw the test, Cal," he bit out, seeing the recognition bloom in her eyes. It was recognition followed by a sliver of pain, one that Eric couldn't quite place. "You knew – you knew _before_ we –" He still couldn't say it aloud, could barely think it without feeling his heart rip right down the middle. "What _was_ last night, Calleigh?" he breathed, stepping closer to her. "Your brilliant plan to keep this game going? Your brilliant plan to convince yourself that the baby could belong to either of us so that you could keep running back and forth like you've been doing all along?"

And that was the accusation that hit Calleigh's very last nerve. Swallowing hard, she managed to force back the growing lump in her throat, but there could be no ignoring the fiery stinging that grew within her eyes. Tears of anger, tears of agony; she didn't quite know. Didn't waste time lingering on the cause; instead she breathed in sharply, trying to hold them at bay and keep them from falling from her eyes. She would _not_ cry, not now. "That is _low_, Eric," she whispered, the tone of her voice deadly.

For a second, Eric found himself stunned to see the tears shimmering in Calleigh's eyes. He felt the bubbling guilt in his stomach at being the one to put them there, but hastily he shoved that away – if anyone should feel guilty over hurting the beautiful woman in front of him, it was Jake Berkeley. "You're not denying it."

Again, Calleigh felt her jaw drop. "You're being ridiculous," she scoffed, blinking furiously. "Why should I deny it? It's a waste of energy, because you're sure as hell not going to believe anything else I have to say – it sounds to me like you've already made up your mind." She paused, giving him a long look before she continued, her voice lower, more dangerous. "And if you actually believe that I would _ever_ do that to you, then I guess you don't really know me at all!"

Eric bit at the inside of his cheek, trying his hardest to ignore the dagger to his heart that'd been concealed within her words. That _hurt_; he couldn't deny it. He'd always treasured the closeness he and Calleigh had shared, and he liked to think that, though she was better at keeping her emotions guarded, he knew her as well as she knew him. The assumption that maybe he actually didn't…it was harsh.

Despite the heartache, the look in his eyes remained hardened. The silence drew on for a moment longer, and, frustrated, Calleigh shook her head. She drew in a deep breath, fighting to steady the roaring emotions within – she couldn't deny that Eric's words had knocked her far off-kilter. "Look, I'm sorry you saw that stupid box, okay? But the test was negative, Eric. Not that it's any of your business, but it was – I'm – I'm not pregnant."

She said it with conviction, but there was a flash in her eyes as she spoke, a flash of something that went straight to the core of Eric's heart. Longing? Desire? Eric wasn't quite sure what exactly it was, but what it meant was clear to him. "But you wish you were," he whispered, and though it had quelled for a moment, Eric quickly felt the anger rise once more – she wanted that baby, despite knowing to whom it would belong. "I don't – I don't _get_ it, Calleigh!"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What?" Where was he taking this? And how on earth had he perceived that she wanted to be pregnant – it _obviously_ wasn't the right time, personally or professionally. Then again, there was no denying the flash of blonde hair and brown eyes that entered her vision as Eric had mentioned a baby…had he perceived that? Was she that readable to him?

Angrily Eric shook his head. "It _baffles_ me. Despite all the lies Jake keeps telling you, no matter how many times he breaks your heart – which you _know_ he'll only keep doing again and again because you keep _letting _him –"

"Oh, because you can tell me right here, right now that you would _never_ break my heart," Calleigh interjected loudly, her gaze icy. Eric met her stare unwaveringly, his eyes just as hard, just as impenetrable. "You want to know something?" she asked just as frostily, stepping back. Her back was against the door now, leaving her nowhere to run, nowhere to escape if Eric closed the remaining distance. "You keep insinuating that I'm an idiot for letting him back in-"

"You're twisting my words –"

"But _damn it,_ Eric, you are _not_ innocent, so why don't you stop pretending to be such a saint!"

And now it was Eric's jaw that was dropping. "Excuse me?" he asked, incredulous. Beyond that, he had no words – she had rendered him speechless. Angry as hell, but still speechless. He didn't understand it – he'd _never_ pretended to be a saint; he knew there were wrongs in his life, mistakes he'd made, many of them in his relationship with the woman before him. But he'd owned up to those mistakes, at least, the ones he truly felt were _his_ mistakes. At least he _did_ own up.

Calleigh rolled her eyes, barely resisting the urge to throw her hands up in exasperation. "You keep going back to Jake! Jake did this, Jake did that. But at least _he_ –"

"Oh great," Eric snorted derisively, unwilling to hear out the rest of her claim. "You should _not_ be defending him! Not after –"

"After everything he did, Eric?" Calleigh all but shouted, finally unable to avoid letting her anger get the best of her. She was shaking, her entire body succumbing to the roaring anger within. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, pumping out a rhythm that rushed through her veins, echoing loudly in her ears. "Is that what you were going to say?" Crossing her arms again, Calleigh waited, though knowing Eric would have no answer to that. "What about everything _you've_ done, huh? At least Jake made it clear, but you have spent two entire years sending me the same mixed signals, never really making up your mind –"

"Mixed signals?" Eric questioned, disbelief written upon his face. "Are you _serious?_ I told you from the very beginning that I wanted you!"

"The very beginning?" Calleigh repeated, finally taking a step forward as opposed to the backward steps she'd let Eric force her into. "That's _not_ the case and you know it! You and I have worked together for almost a decade; been friends for nearly as long. I was right in front of you for _years_. But no, you didn't want me until you couldn't have me!"

"That is _not_ true," Eric growled, infuriated that she was questioning what he knew in his heart, what he _had_ known for years. "I wanted you the first day I met you and I've _never_ stopped wanting you!"

"Oh yeah, that really shows, Eric!" Calleigh scoffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "You wanted me all those years and yet, you spent all that time flaunting a different woman every night, bragging about how easy it was to get them to go home with you. Hell, half of the time you probably didn't even know their names!" she accused, and Eric didn't have to search his damaged memory to know she was once more referencing the coping mechanisms, albeit poor ones, he'd utilized in the wake of Speedle's death. "All that time," Calleigh continued, her voice so icy that Eric could feel the blood in his veins chilling, "I was right there in front of you all that time while you paraded around with them all, with – with Natalia –"

"_Natalia?"_ Eric interrupted, almost as stunned as he was angry. "You're _really_ going to throw her back at me? At least _she _has made something of herself; she's not just the mole in the lab. She's fought for her acceptance here; she's made amends with the lab. She, at least, is a _decent_ person."

"What are you getting at?" Calleigh snapped, narrowing her eyes. She had no idea where he was taking that thread, but she knew she didn't quite like the direction.

Eric glared. "You know _exactly_ what I'm getting at," he insisted, his voice a low growl. His toothing days were one thing, but how could she compare Natalia to her own string of failed relationships? "Come on, I've spent the past God only knows _how_ many years watching you waste your life on the same kinds of men," he spat, undeterred by the flash of sudden recognition – and intense anger – in her eyes. "John Hagen, Peter Elliot –"

"Peter Elliot?" Calleigh exclaimed, incredulous. "_Please_, Eric. That was nothing more –"

He wasn't going to let her stop him before he was done, though. His voice was louder, more intimidating as he interrupted her once more. "And now Jake Berkeley, who's too much of a damned coward to tell you anything, so he thinks it's better to lie to you, better to break your heart all over again, leaving me to help pick up the pieces –"

"I don't need you to pick up the pieces, damn it!" Calleigh cried, feeling the last shred of her professionalism crumble away into nothing. "And besides, if it's such a – a _chore_ for you –"

"A chore? Are you _serious?" _Eric yelled. His ears were ringing and he could barely see straight for the anger that consumed him now, anger mixed with astonishment, hiding away the heartache he felt beneath it all. "I _want_ to be here for you! I want to make you happy, to make sure you're _always _happy! _I want to be with you!"_

It hit her like a bag of bricks to the chest, but Calleigh refused to let it topple her. Biting her tongue hard enough to sense the metallic taste of blood, she blinked rapidly, feeling her eyes begin to water again. She drew in several deep breaths, one after the other in perfect cadence, only speaking when she felt she could do it without hearing the tremble in her voice. "You – you don't have a clue what you want."

"Don't tell me what I know or don't know, Calleigh," Eric growled quietly, his entire body lost within an adrenaline rage. "You don't know what I think every time you walk by me, every time you smile at me. You don't know the dreams I have, the dreams I've _always_ had. You don't know _any_ of that, so don't you dare tell me I don't know what I want. I want _you_."

"And that's why you left me this morning?"

Eric bit his tongue against the retort that had formed there, a half-step ahead of his mind. Instead, he ignored her altogether, allowing his feet to carry him across the remaining few steps between them. Her eyes narrowed slightly at his approach, but he'd expected that. "Calleigh," he breathed, watching the anger in her eyes shift to confusion. "Maybe you don't believe it yourself. Maybe it makes no sense to you. But there's never been anything that's made better sense to me. I _know_ what I want," he repeated, his voice considerably softer than before. "I've known what I wanted for years."

He paused, barely resisting the urge to reach out to her. He could feel the anger slowly ebbing away, replaced by a deep feeling of despair, so deep he almost found himself drowning within it. A quiet scoff escaped him, though rather than scathing like the ones before, it was more defeated. Lost. "And now I think I know what you want too."

Calleigh blinked. Eric's quick transition had confused her enough, but his cryptic statement left her lost in a puzzling haze. "What?" she asked weakly.

His thoughts drifted back to the night before, and, despite the circumstances, despite his own agony, Eric couldn't help but give a slight smile – despite it all, he would _always_ find this particular trait of hers cute. "You, uh, you talk in your sleep," he mumbled, fidgeting with his clammy hands.

Now Calleigh was entirely baffled. "What? I do not…" she insisted, tilting her head puzzledly.

"Yeah, you do. Sometimes you talk, when you're really stressed…" Trailing off, Eric glanced to the floor below, suddenly feeling rather sheepish himself. "Several years ago, remember that night that Horatio had stirred up my neighborhood? And I'd asked to borrow your couch, and we both ended up sharing it instead?" He paused, gleaning the slightest bit of joy from the rosy tint that crept into Calleigh's cheeks. Despite himself, Eric chuckled, though it held very little true mirth. "I, uh, I stayed awake for half the night, just holding you and listening to you go through your grocery list, and trying to decide if maybe I should wake you up to let you know you were forgetting the milk…"

Calleigh felt the tugging at her heart, along with the guilt that settled in her stomach yet again. "Eric…"

"My point is…" Eric continued, avoiding her eyes again. "Sometimes you talk. Last night…you talked."

And suddenly, it all clicked for Calleigh. Horror gripped her, stealing away the blush that had risen in her cheeks. Her eyes widened, and dizziness surrounded her as once more she found it impossible to breathe. "Oh God, Eric…" she murmured, feeling the need to comfort him but not having the strength to reach out to him. "What – what –"

Eric shook his head. A flicker of the deepest heartache flashed through his eyes, but Calleigh remained unable to find her voice. His own agony was overtaking him, ripping his heart into shreds as his simple instructions to her appeared on his lips. "Read your letter, Cal," he said softly, knowing that a plethora of emotions swirled within her, but that the one that she deserved above all to feel had been missing for quite some time.

Again, Calleigh shook her head in confusion. "What?"

He reached out, allowing his fingertips to trace just softly along her upper arm, indulging himself for only the briefest moment. "Just read your letter, Cal," he repeated, the ghost of a sad smile gracing his lips. "You've got mine - I guess you deserve his side of the story too." He swallowed hard, slowly forcing his leaden feet to carry him a single step backward, trying to ignore the sharp pain the distance shot through him. "And, uh, just know that I'm not throwing in the towel just yet. Not until you read that and let me know for sure where you and I stand."

And with that, though it nearly killed him to do it, Eric turned and forced himself to walk away, leaving the woman he cared for more than life itself behind without a look back.

His parting words, though, lingered with her in the suddenly empty vault. They echoed around her, almost as a warning more so than an instruction, and the longer that Calleigh stood there, the more foreboding they seemed.

It seemed a simple enough instruction.

But did Calleigh really want to know what was in that letter?


	42. Night Terror

**_Chapter Forty-Two_**  
_**Night Terror**  
-**  
**_

_Calleigh was so very warm._

_From the tips of her fingers to the very depths of her heart, an uncontainable heat covered every inch of her, lulling her into the most blissful state of drowsy contentment she had ever felt before. Every nerve in her body sang with delight, leaving her entire body tingling deliciously as she drifted in and out of that peaceful state of near-sleep; not quite awake, but not completely gone either. _

_It was the latter that she fought against – she didn't want to be completely lulled away, didn't want to sacrifice even a moment of this sweet contentment for something as trivial as dreams, but the soft, steady heartbeat just beneath her ear was among the sweetest of lullabies she'd ever had the pleasure of hearing. _

_Her eyelids felt so heavy; her entire being felt immersed in a hazy fog, one which she never really wanted to emerge. A soft sigh of delight escaped from her lips, eliciting a quiet chuckle that while so close, seemed so very far away. But Calleigh could do little more than smile lazily in response, affectionately tracing a toe along his calf beneath the covers. _

_The sheer happiness was overwhelming, filling her almost to the bursting point; she knew she would have no regrets were she to never leave this bed again…as long as the man who shared it with her never left either. His arms were currently draped snugly around her body, holding her close as his hands played gently over her back, fingers tracing random patterns over the smooth skin. It only added to the hypnotism, and Calleigh found it oh so difficult to fight the progressive blurring of the edges of her reality. Hoping to jar herself back into the present, she slowly shook her head to clear it, softly nuzzling against him in the process. _

_Her companion exhaled deeply, stretching lightly beneath the covers. And Calleigh couldn't help but smile as her name fell softly from his lips. "Calleigh…" His own contentment was palpable in his tone, as was the slightest bit of amusement. And despite all that which Calleigh could discern so easily, there was still something about his voice that sounded just a bit distant, almost as though it were coming to her from a dream. And part of Calleigh couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was a dream – after all, did this kind of sheer happiness occur outside of dreams? The feelings were so very vivid; she could feel his skin against hers, could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest. She could feel the blankets brushing over her bare skin, warming her as her body cooled down from the heated activities of earlier, the activities that had left her so sated with bliss. She could feel every touch of fingers along her body; soothing now, where earlier they had served to tease and tantalize, lifting and pushing her to that elusive peak. And yet, it all still felt too good to be true, especially after all they'd been through to reach this point._

_He gave her a moment more, a grin tugging at his lips the longer that she neglected to respond to him. "You're dozing off on me again," he teased, drawing his fingertips steadily up and down, up and down along the length of her spine. Calleigh shivered at the simple touch; it _was_ simple, but sometimes, even simplicity was enough to drive her wild, especially when it came to the man whose chest she was currently sprawled across, almost as though she were afraid to let him go. _

_She gave a quiet giggle, shifting her body against him despite his unwillingness to let her move. She forced her eyes open and tilted her head, brushing her lips just lightly over his chest as she finally formulated a reply. "You're not exactly helping me to stay awake," she drawled._

_"Mm," he hummed, grinning devilishly as his fingers trailed southward, leaving behind the innocent caresses to her back for more sensual circles traced directly along the curve of her hips. "Do you want me to?" he breathed, the inquiry dripping with seductive intent. Calleigh smirked, playfully rolling her eyes as he continued. "Because I can, you know. I could have sleep so far from your mind before you even realize what's happening."_

_The not-so-hidden promise in his words was enough to draw forth goosebumps along her skin; she couldn't help but squirm. The movement drew yet another amused chuckle from her companion, followed by a sigh as he relaxed fully back into the pillows. "You know…these are my favorite kinds of afternoons…"_

_Calleigh smiled, shifting enough to rest her chin atop his chest, allowing her finally to meet his dark eyes. "Oh yeah?" she breathed in reply, suddenly not feeling quite as exhausted as she had just moments before. _

_"Oh yeah," he repeated, lazily clasping his hands behind his head on the pillow. "Just you and me, a quiet afternoon all to ourselves, nowhere to go and nothing to do…" He smirked, playfully bumping a toe against her ankle. "Too bad you're sleepy now…"_

_Calleigh's eyes sparkled mischievously. True, she _was_ tired, but it was a satisfied tired, and therefore not something that she couldn't banish with the right incentive. And the right incentive was currently sprawled on his back in her bed, a lazy grin on his lips and a devious glint in his eyes. "I think maybe I can summon up just a bit of energy…you know, just for you," Calleigh teased, slowly and deliberately shifting against him until she effectively straddled his hips._

_He grinned, realizing the purpose of her motion well before she'd completed it. His hands left the back of his head and quickly slipped beneath the soft sheets, finding blissfully bare hips. "Oh really?" he murmured, his voice little more than a low, seductive rumble as his thumbs slowly caressed silky skin. "Because from my perspective, it looked like you were two seconds away from being dead to the world just a few minutes ago." He smirked. "So what happened?"_

_Calleigh giggled coyly, lowering her lips to the bare skin of his chest. Between the softness of her lips and the tickle of the ends of her blonde locks brushing against his skin, Jake couldn't help but groan softly. She could tease just as well as he could – could, and always did. "Well," she began quietly, tracing the expanse of bare skin that greeted her with a combination of her lips and fingertips, satisfied as she felt his breath hitch beneath her. "You said you could make me forget all about sleep…"_

_Jake smirked. "I _did_ say that, huh?"_

_Lifting her head, Calleigh quickly found her eyes drawn to his lips. Suddenly the desire to kiss him fully was all but overwhelming, but for the moment, she denied herself that pleasure. As close to dreams as she'd been before, Calleigh was almost completely awake now; she might've wanted to sleep before, but now, she wanted to play. "You did," she agreed, her lips curving in a devious smile. "And I'm interested in finding out whether or not you can prove that…"_

_The smug grin that stretched across Jake's lips left Calleigh shivering in anticipation. She held his eyes in a silent challenge, playfully lifting a brow as the reply fell smoothly from Jake's lips. "I can prove that…and more," he breathed, eyes transfixed on the beauty above him. He loved the way her tousled blonde locks waved softly around her cheeks, framing her beautiful face before brushing over bare shoulders, skin as silky smooth as the strands that teased it. One hand left her hips, fingertips skimming lightly along her arm as he traced his way upward, finally finding the feathery strands of golden blonde. They threaded easily between his fingers as he watched with lust-filled yet reverent eyes, and Calleigh couldn't control the sudden, wild flip-flop of her heart in her chest. _

_Shaking her hair over her shoulders and allowing it to cascade behind her back and, to his brief dismay, out of Jake's reach, Calleigh slowly leaned forward, a grin tugging at her lips and a light pink tint to her cheeks. Her lips hovered just mere centimeters above his, and as her tongue flicked seductively over hers, she couldn't help but feel the slight surge of power as Jake's eyes flickered toward the motion. "So," she breathed, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "What are you waiting for?"_

_With that, Calleigh closed the distance between them, capturing his lips in a slow, lazy kiss, hoping it could convey clearly just how badly she wanted him, just how much he meant to her. She felt his hands cup her cheeks, only to slip lazily toward the back of her head, into her tousled locks and likely tousling them even more, but Calleigh couldn't bring herself to care about that right now, not as their mouths melded together with such perfection that left Calleigh succumbing to an endless, delicious shiver that spread all the way to the tips of her fingers. It was electric, the feeling, and the spark only intensified as she felt Jake's tongue tease at her lips, seeking for entrance that was readily given. Tongues clashed as her lips parted for him, and Calleigh felt the soft moan of pleasure escape from her throat as her world was reduced to nothing more than the feelings crashing through her and the man who elicited those feelings from her with the seductive meshing of his lips with hers. An errant through fluttered aimlessly through her clouded mind – given the chance, she knew she could kiss him all day like this._

_Jake's plans, however, differed slightly as his hands departed from her hair and skimmed downward over silky skin, feeling her body flutter beneath his touch. Gathering his strength, he wrapped his arms fully around her soft body, pulling her snugly against him. Playfully he rolled her, relishing in the sound of her sweet giggle as he quickly came to rest above her. Quickly and efficiently, yet oh so gently, he found Calleigh's wrists and pinned them above her head on the pillow._

_And this was not exactly in Calleigh's plans. Jake liked to have his fun, but she liked to have her control too. Problem was, part of Jake's idea of fun involved stealing her control and then her sanity – the latter of which, Calleigh would never protest. But she wanted to play too… Predictably, she struggled beneath him, pouting slightly as she tried, though halfheartedly, to free her hands. "Jake…"_

_Above her he grinned, that playful yet sexy grin that left Calleigh's stomach turning flips inside her abdomen. "Trust me, Cal," he breathed, lowering his head to nuzzle against the underside of her chin. _

_Calleigh tilted her neck, granting him better access as his lips caressed sensitive skin. The kisses descended along her throat, slowly approaching her collarbone, and Calleigh couldn't help but whimper softly. "I don't want to trust," she murmured, eyes fluttering closed as his tongue joined the sensual dance of his lips at her collarbone. "I want – I want to touch…"_

_Jake chuckled quietly, the sound reverberating against Calleigh's skin. "I bet you do," he teased, nipping playfully at a particularly sensitive patch of skin. Calleigh squirmed beneath him, and Jake grinned – he'd always loved how easy it was to drive her out of her mind. Refusing to grant her request, he merely continued to dot her perfect skin with lazy, open-mouth kisses, occasionally earning himself a whimper or a sigh with the rare nip of his teeth and the soothing swipe of his tongue against her skin._

_And Calleigh was breathless, powerless to stop the delightful wave of sensation that crashed over her, again and again. She couldn't stop the quiet whimper that fell from her lips as his tongue dipped in the hollow of her throat, but Calleigh found she couldn't spare the energy to feel embarrassed about it._

_He still had a firm hold on her wrists, but with one hand now instead of two. The other was snaking stealthily down her side, just firmly enough to send sparks of desire rushing throughout her entire body. Every brush of his fingers was enough to leave her skin aflame, burning for more, for him, and she couldn't help but whimper again as he slowly reduced her to little more than a squirming, needy mess. "Jake…"_

_Jake hummed against her skin, the vibration sending shivers radiating through her body. "You're so beautiful; you know that?" he breathed, his fingertips skimming along her side, pausing at the curve of her hip. He lifted his head just in time to watch as her cheeks flushed pink, as they often did beneath the intensity of his piercing dark eyes, that gaze that always gave Calleigh the impression he could see directly into the deepest reaches of her soul. And maybe he could…and Calleigh found that she was not entirely opposed to that. _

_Softly he pressed a single, reverent kiss to the corner of her lips, one that left Calleigh's heart jolting in her chest. She couldn't breathe, could feel the room spinning around her, and when Jake's lips parted and his quiet, gravelly voice once more reached her ears, Calleigh thought she might melt right into the sheets. "I want to show you…"_

_The promise saturating his words was purely sexual, though the sensual affection behind it was not entirely masked. Calleigh shivered, unable to do much more than submit to his sweet seduction. He ducked his head, depositing a slow kiss to the sensitive spot just beneath her ear, the sound of her trembling breath like music to his ears. Her body was already turning to jelly in his arms, beneath his teasing ministrations; it was an inevitability that she would fall, the question was only when he would let her. And Jake liked to tease…_

_His teeth nipped ever so softly at her jaw, drawing a soft, shaky cry from her lips. Quickly though he soothed the sharpness with a quick swirl of his tongue, and if Calleigh had been standing, she knew her knees would've buckled. As it was, her entire body was trembling and the fact that she just couldn't control that left her feeling just an infinitesimal bit weak._

_But then his lips were tracing a path of fire along her throat, pausing to suckle lightly at the spot he'd always known to be one of her greatest weaknesses, and that was the end of the road for all logical thought in Calleigh's mind. From her head it slipped like sand through her fingers, leaving her blissfully empty of all but sensation and desire that grew and grew until she felt she might burst into flame. And as he whispered, his breath hot against her collarbone, she honestly thought she might. "Beautiful…"_

_She whimpered, unable to silence the desperate sound. But whether he heard it or not – and Calleigh knew he did – Jake gave no indication. He was a man on a mission and would not be deterred, and the thought itself was enough to raise goosebumps along her heated skin. Her breath hitched as his lips ghosted along her sternum, pausing momentarily, his low, sensual voice again drifting to Calleigh's ears. "So gorgeous…"_

_He couldn't hold back a groan of his own as she squirmed beneath him, having no suitable defense to the feelings he elicited within her. And Jake only wanted to take her higher; he wanted her like he'd never wanted anyone else, a truth he made once more apparent to her as his lips tickled her skin on their slow journey southward._

_And the journey was such blissful torture for Calleigh; no matter how deeply she tried to gasp for air, it seemed no oxygen could reach her. She was dizzy and disoriented, and her entire perception of the world around her had narrowed to the feel of Jake's lips on her skin, his hard body pressing sensually against hers, the sheer heat between them. And God, she wanted more._

_Roughened fingertips found the silky skin of her thighs, and Calleigh squeezed her eyes shut, feeling more than hearing the chuckle he gave in response to the quiver that consumed her. His lips danced sensually over the taut skin of her stomach, gliding progressively lower and relishing in the feel of her muscles fluttering beneath his teasing lips, his skilled tongue. The warmth of his breath tickled already heated flesh, and Calleigh breathed deeply, searching for some sense of control but already knowing the search would be fruitless – when Jake Berkeley was intent on driving her wild, he wouldn't stop until he'd done it at least twice. _

_"So sexy…" he murmured, his words were little more than a low growl – a low growl that contained just a hint of possessiveness. And that was enough to leave Calleigh's breath hitching as her head fell back against the pillow, her eyes closing as the waves began to wash over her; waves of heat, of desire, of utter want. With a hand that Calleigh only just realized had been released from his grasp, she blindly reached downward, seeking a certain something and finding it when Jake's fingers met hers, quickly and instinctively lacing together. Her rapidly beating heart fluttered and then melted as he squeezed gently; a simple gesture, but the amount of affection contained within left Calleigh floating. _

_Overcome by the sudden emotion, Calleigh quickly released his hand in favor of seeking out the warmth of his cheek instead. Lifting her head, she slowly tilted his upward, and when deepest brown met emerald green, Calleigh felt the electricity spark through her entire body. Slowly caressing his stubbled cheek, she quietly murmured the three words she'd only recently grown comfortable saying to him, and even now they felt so foreign leaving her lips…so foreign, but oh so good. "I love you…"_

_He smiled softly, leaning into her touch. Before she could drop her hand, Jake lifted his and softly caught her wrist with gentle fingers. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, brushing his lips against the center of her palm in a soft, lingering kiss. The gesture elicited a delicious shiver that began at the base of Calleigh's spine and slowly spread its way outward, leaving in its wake the most intense feeling of completion that Calleigh could ever remember feeling. _

_Before releasing her hand, Jake lowered his lips, pursing them just lightly against the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist. "I love you," he whispered in return, and though his voice was just merely a whisper, Calleigh had no trouble discerning the compassion, the sincerity, the unquestioned truth in his words, among so many other emotions that were swirled together far too tightly for Calleigh to accurately unravel. _

_Utilizing the newly found freedom of her hands, Calleigh threaded her fingers through his dark locks as he continued to tease her with kisses, some firm and deliberate, some lighter than the brush of a feather, all of them leaving her breathless and dizzy and desperate for more. Again her breath hitched as his lips latched to a spot just mere centimeters beneath her navel, applying a firm suction that once more left her whimpering and squirming, calling out for him in a breathy, needy voice that sounded so foreign to her own ears, yet was undeniably her own. "Jake…"_

_He chuckled against her skin, the low vibration drawing a quiet whimper from Calleigh. "Just close your eyes," he breathed, one hand caressing the silky skin of her thigh. "Close your eyes and just relax…" She shivered yet again, unable not to accede to his request – she couldn't _not_, not when he used _that_ voice on her. _

_And he knew what it did to her; knew, and absolutely used that to his advantage. He grinned devilishly, and if Calleigh had met his eyes in that moment, the sheer degree of desire in his darkened eyes would've had her crying out for him. "Relax, beautiful…let me make you crazy…"_

_Calleigh was certain she was already there. The tone of his voice though carried the promise of more, the prospect of which had her head falling back upon the pillow and a low moan issuing from parted lips. She flicked her tongue over them in an effort to moisten them as her eyes fell closed, no choice but to surrender fully the power of utter seduction. _

_She was unsure how long she lay there, waiting. Waiting for the sensual assault that simply never came. Her body slowly slipped from the sensual haze he'd inflicted upon her, falling heavily back to a reality to which she hadn't wanted to return. A sobering chill abruptly washed over her, so unlike the shivers of pleasure that had consumed her only moments before. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, her vision blurring slightly as her eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness that filled the room. A thick cloud of confusion settled quickly over her – she was still in bed, her bed, but everything was different. Instead of Jake's touch heating her skin, she was warmed only by the fabric of the robe that covered her, and that was a poor substitute anyway. It did little to assuage the sudden chill, and as Calleigh slowly arose, she impulsively tightened the belt of the robe around her middle. But the most startling realization was not that of the sudden loss of warmth or the abrupt perception of darkness. No, what startled her most was the realization that suddenly, she was alone. Jake was gone. _

_Her lips parted, but Calleigh couldn't seem to summon the energy to call out for him – her voice had betrayed her, much as her companion had – the knowledge of that left her feeling achingly empty; it was as if he hadn't even been there at all. Had she merely dozed off into such a powerful dream? A daydream? The sensations had felt so real though, too real. _

_The silence was broken by a quiet voice, just barely loud enough for Calleigh to pick out her name. Her ears perked toward the sound, her heart leaping in her chest as she held her breath, listening so very closely. Without the implicit permission of her mind, her body shifted of its own accord, pulling her slowly to her unsteady feet. Silently they hit the carpet below, though Calleigh wouldn't have heard if they had made a sound – her ears listened only for one sound. She knew not why, but there was something about that voice…something about it that made it worth all the effort Calleigh could give to find it. _

_The second time her name was called, it echoed off the walls, reverberating in Calleigh's ears, but rather than wince, Calleigh could only grasp to the sudden fearful tone, her heart jolting within her chest. Something was wrong; something had happened…and it coincided with Jake's sudden disappearance from her bed. The blood in her veins became ice water at the prospect, coursing furiously through her veins and plunging her body into a state of utmost shock. _

_She didn't know what exactly was driving her, but her feet were carrying her toward the doorway before she could even begin to awaken her mind. Something was drawing her, and it was more than just the voice that called her name. It was like a magnet, one she couldn't ignore – she wanted to know where Jake had gone, but it was more than that. There was just something else…_

_Without thinking, Calleigh found herself slowly opening the door, only to find pure darkness on the other side. Quickly it seeped into her body, dropping a block of the coldest ice into her stomach, and Calleigh had to reach out to the doorframe, bracing herself against the sudden nausea that gripped her. All trace of the happiness and desire from moments before had betrayed her, leaving her victim to this dreadful apprehension, this chilling fear. _

_This was ridiculous, her mind chimed in as finally it broke free of its clouded daze. This was her own home; there was nothing within that could possibly leave her feeling quite like this. And yet, every instinct within her was screaming at her to turn back. Return to the safety of her bed; close her eyes and wait for Jake to return – he always did, after all. She might never know when, but he always came back. _

_But despite this knowledge, despite those screaming instincts, Calleigh found her feet pulling her forward and into the chilled darkness. And she couldn't stop; couldn't turn back and return to guaranteed safety and warmth. With the first step, she knew she must continue forward. Each step plunged her ever farther into the darkness, and only as she reached what should have been the middle of the hallway did she realize that it was no longer her own familiar hallway at all. The dark, narrow path seemed to stretch on for miles, and with a lurch of her stomach, Calleigh turned back only to realize that the little light that had issued from her bedroom had disappeared, swallowed by the darkness much as she herself had been._

_Her ears perked once more to the sound of her name, and fueled by adrenaline she forced her voice to her lips, calling out a single, trembling utterance. "Jake?"_

_The answering sound was vague, quiet, almost as if coming from a vast distance away. But what struck Calleigh was the immediate realization that it was different. It was not the voice that had called her name; it wasn't the voice that she had followed into the dark at all. It was different, so very different, yet so familiar that Calleigh immediately found herself pausing her steps, her heart jolting in her chest. She couldn't see but pitch black before her eyes; the loss of her vision left her other senses magnified, and as the sound repeated itself again, Calleigh knew she'd be able to identify it anywhere. _

_It was a giggle, soft and innocent, young and untainted, and one that Calleigh knew she could separate easily from a deluge of similar childlike giggles. It didn't belong in a place such as this, though, and Calleigh swallowed hard, struggling to stave off the eerie feeling that threatened to swallow her entire being._

_It had come from her right, the soft, sweet sound, and instinctively Calleigh reached out into the darkness, expecting to feel the presence of a wall, but instead coming upon empty space. She knew not where she was, but it was clear that she was no longer in her own home, in her hallway – no, it was as though her own home had dissolved around her, replaced by the darkness that seemed to have no end. But Calleigh pondered not about this; instead, her mind was suddenly consumed by the sound of that giggle, so soft and familiar, and without a second thought she pushed herself in that direction, cautiously following the sound. _

_The darkness persisted, the only sound for what felt like miles the echo of her heart in her ears. The beating grew louder with every step until Calleigh felt dizzied by the sound, feeling a rush of cold panic wash over her – the steady yet quickened beat was drowning out what she wanted, what she _needed_ to hear, and without that one distinct sound, Calleigh felt she would be lost in the darkness._

_It wasn't until much further into the dark abyss that Calleigh realized that the deafening rumble wasn't really her heartbeat at all. It came from overhead, the sound she had heard so many times in the past. It had been a long time since she'd felt fearful of the rumbling noise, a few decades, in fact. In her recent memories, it brought her back to late nights wrapped in a pair of warm arms beneath the covers, watching sleepily as flashes of lightning illuminated the dark. It was thunder, low and heavy, but this time it came without the feelings of contentment and warmth she'd grown used to during those ubiquitous summer storms. _

_It seemed never to cease, the rumbling peal overhead, and the longer Calleigh listened, the more her skin seemed to tingle. The electricity had grown heavy in the air, only growing that much more the further she ran. And running was the pace at which her feet were carrying her now; the careful, cautious steps through the dark had disappeared completely, replaced with the desperate need to simply _run.

_Abruptly the darkened tunnel was filled with an intense flash of white light, so bright that Calleigh couldn't help but cry out. It burned her eyes, the sudden burst of lightning after the time she'd spent wandering through the dark – she had no way of knowing how long it had been. _

_Her eyes had adjusted by the time the second flash of lightning illuminated the tunnel, but this time it was Calleigh's heart that bore the brunt of the shock. Before her eyes, much too intense a sight to be merely a trick of the shadows, was the briefest flash of long, blonde hair, only a momentary glimpse before the darkness once again took over. And Calleigh's ears picked up once more the sound of the soft giggle; her heart clenched as she realized it sounded even farther away than it had before. A sudden burst of fear gripping her, Calleigh quickened her pace, pushing her way through the darkened maze. In her mind she was able to keep a pristine clarity on the fleeting sight of that golden blonde hair, despite the fact that her eyes could take in nothing now, nothing but the darkness that swallowed her so completely._

_Frustration and fear clutched her heart in a vice-like grip, and just for a moment Calleigh paused, catching her breath as she gazed out into the ever-present darkness, calling out the only word in her mind. "Hailey?"_

_There was no answer, nothing other than the hollow echo of her own voice. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think of anything but the quick flicker of blonde and the desperate need to chase it down, to chase _her_ down, her Hailey. She was in danger, Calleigh could feel it. And that was enough to push her on, continuing her blind run into the darkness, a darkness illuminated only occasionally by the flashes of lightning._

_It seemed she'd been running an eternity, but despite the ache in her chest and the burning in her calves, Calleigh found herself unable to stop. She had to find the little blonde girl; it felt as though everything depended upon finding her. It was the feeling that propelled Calleigh on, even as she stumbled against her protesting muscles. Instead of hesitating, she only ran faster as the first tinge of light touched the periphery of her vision, though it never truly grew much brighter until she reached the end of the line, until the dark tunnel fanned out into a circular room filled with a low, flickering light. _

_It was completely unfamiliar, this room that Calleigh suddenly found herself inside; it wasn't one that she could ever remember being in, and certainly not part of her own home. It was spacious and carried a distinct feeling of home, though comfort Calleigh, it did not. Photographs lined the neutrally-painted walls, though the faces were blurred and indistinguishable to Calleigh's eyes. The soft light that filled the room radiated from the quaint little lamp in the corner, perched atop a small, simple, wooden table. The rest of the furniture consisted of a sofa and two large armchairs, each of which might have seemed so inviting to Calleigh's tired body under different circumstances. _

_But what captivated her gaze most intensely wasn't a fixture of the room itself at all, but the little girl standing across the room, so close yet so far away. Calleigh's heart gave a slight jump as she paused in the doorway, simply watching. "Hailey…" she breathed._

_Her back was to Calleigh as she stood before the large bay window, facing the dark night outside. As another flash of lightning illuminated the sky, Calleigh felt her stomach lurch as the scenery beyond the glass was lit up. Palm trees bent in the wind, struggling to remain upright. The rain beat down upon the earth in torrents, and Calleigh couldn't help but wonder how she hadn't heard it against the roof before – now that she'd noticed it, it was all but deafening. And beyond that, the sea…_

_Calleigh found her thoughts interrupted by a deafening peal of thunder, so loud that she couldn't help but jump. Her hands went instinctively to her ears, but across the room, Hailey seemed utterly unfazed. In fact, if she'd even noticed Calleigh's presence behind her, she gave no indication._

_In the face of the storm, Hailey merely pressed herself closer to the glass, seemingly enthralled by something in the distance, though Calleigh couldn't be sure what. The raging storm was all her own senses perceived; the howling wind, crashing thunder, blinding lightning…altogether it was enough to leave goosebumps along Calleigh's arms. And yet, Hailey was standing there, just in front of the window…_

_Seemingly to punctuate her fear, a loud peal of thunder crashed just overhead, loud enough that it left Calleigh's ears ringing for several seconds. "Hailey," she rasped, her throat suddenly dry. She swallowed hard and reached out a shaky hand, laying her palm gently atop the little girl's shoulder. "Come away from the window, Hailey," she pleaded quietly, shuddering as her eyes flickered to the sea just yards away, where the waves were being tossed about violently by the storm. But Hailey didn't move, didn't even acknowledge Calleigh's presence until she spoke again. "Hailey Jade…"_

_And finally, though ever so slowly, Hailey turned to face Calleigh, her movements alarmingly robotic. A burst of lightning was reflected in her dark eyes, and for the first time, Calleigh could see the presence of fear in the normally fearless little girl. But it wasn't due to the storm – Hailey still didn't react at all to that. Instead, the fear was deeper, the gravity of it apparent in her unusually somber voice. "I can't find Daddy."_

_Everything about this encounter had Calleigh on edge. She was unsettled, anxious, though she summoned up every last fragment of her fortitude in order to keep it from showing. Seeing that Calleigh was upset was the last thing that Hailey needed. Instead she cleared her throat, forcing a smile as she extended a hand toward the little girl, her daughter. "We should go find him," she suggested, nodding her head. "Come on, sweetheart."_

_But Hailey was not so easily convinced. Vehemently she shook her head, and Calleigh felt her heart clench as the first evidence of moisture appeared in Hailey's dark eyes. "But – but he's gone…"_

_Calleigh couldn't help but shudder at the conviction in Hailey's voice. Something about the little girl's words chilled her blood, and she felt the block of ice drop so heavily into her stomach. She hesitated for a moment, biting roughly at the inside of her cheek. Don't show your fear, her mind reprimanded her sternly, though even the logical part of her brain had trouble adhering to that when she knew that there was really nothing to fear._

_And yet, Calleigh was suddenly just as frightened as the little girl before her. The pounding of her heart was undeniable; she was certain that if not for the storm that raged outside, the echo of that powerful, frantic beat would be the loudest sound of all. _

_She swallowed hard, beckoning to Hailey once more with her outstretched hand. "No, he's not. I promise," she said, her voice wavering as another violent flash of lightning lit up the night sky. She wished they were farther away from the window; wished Hailey was farther away from the window. _

_As if on cue, yet another brilliant flash of lightning lit up the night, and Calleigh felt her heart leap into her throat. She swallowed again, suddenly dizzy as she took in the abrupt change in the little girl before her. Her naturally rosy cheeks had paled substantially, her face taking on an ashen glow, almost ghost-like. Her eyes had darkened, all but losing the familiar deep brown she'd inherited from her father. It was eerie, and Calleigh shuddered, the deepest fear penetrating her heart as she realized how deeply wrong everything about this moment was. Her voice was hoarse as she called out once more, begging Hailey to listen. There was danger, and all Calleigh could understand was the immense need to protect her daughter. "Hailey, please," she begged, taking a shaky step forward. "Come away from the window…"_

_Abruptly, the steady pounding of the rain on the roof ceased, ushering in an eerily overbearing silence, a silence so loud that Calleigh's ears rang with the intensity of it. She tried again, issuing the same request to the small blonde, so similar to herself._

_But Hailey…she had always pushed the limits. She'd always watched the boundaries, going one step beyond, the little daredevil. So very like her father…_

_The thought was enough to leave Calleigh shuddering, gasping softly as Hailey failed to move, simply lifting her hand. And though the movement was simple, though it could've meant anything, Calleigh couldn't help but feel the trepidation arise within her as the little girl brought her hand higher. Something was going to happen…_

_And then, she reached out toward the window. Calleigh's heart leapt into her throat. "Hailey!"_

_But it was as if Hailey never even heard Calleigh's voice._

_And Calleigh could do nothing but watch helplessly as her tiny hand met the cool windowpane with the quiet squeak of skin against moist glass. _

_And with that, all other sound came to an abrupt cessation. Trepidation swamped Calleigh; along with the sense of time, it seemed her heart came to a complete stop within her chest. Her lungs failed her, but somehow she remained standing, running on pure fear-induced adrenaline. With all her might, Calleigh called out again to the little girl at the window, but the frightened shout was immediately lost to the all-consuming silence. _

_Unhearing, Hailey slowly reached out, bringing her other hand toward the window. Calleigh felt the blood drain from her face; she tried to move, but her feet were cemented to the floor. There was nothing she could do._

_And then, Hailey's other hand met the glass. It was as though a circuit had been completed.  
_

_Before Calleigh could even gasp, a searing white light filled the room, emanating inward from the storm outside. It burned Calleigh's eyes, leaving her blinded, losing complete sight of the girl – her daughter. She cried out in vain, wrenching her feet from the floor before, launching herself blindly forward. _

_With the first step, Calleigh suddenly felt every hair upon her body stand on end._

_With the second, she could feel the abrupt, eerie crackle of electricity filling the atmosphere._

_And before she could even take the third, there was a deafening crash as the entire room was engulfed in a shattering explosion, searing her with heat and electricity and sending her body tumbling blindly backward, leaving her to fall limply among shards of glass and remnants of the walls and the roof. Her vision went searing white before fading out completely, though Calleigh wasn't quite sure if it was because she'd been blinded, or if it was where her eyes were squeezed shut. She'd known what was coming, had somehow been able to sense the coming blast, but she'd been utterly unprepared for the pain. And that was agony; it was excruciating, as though she'd been burned from the inside out by a fire so intense that no salve would be sufficient enough to relieve the burn._

_Unable to move due to the pain, Calleigh could merely lay there amongst the rubble, feeling her heart pound painfully against her ribs, feeling the agony pulse through her body with every single beat. She'd never experienced anything as painful as this, and part of her prayed that she wouldn't live to experience it ever again. So painful it was that Calleigh, who normally shunned even the idea of tears, could feel the moisture carving a path along her cheeks, but there existed not a single part of her mind that could bring itself to care._

_But perhaps it was the knowledge of those tears that gave her the energy to struggle against the pain. Calleigh fought to draw in a breath, and then with every fiber of strength in her body, she weakly attempted to lift her head. It was such a simple motion, but the agony that shot through her was utterly debilitating. She swallowed hard, the gritty dryness scratching her throat; her voice was hoarse and so very foreign as she murmured the only word she could manage. "Hailey…"_

_Her stomach lurched violently, finally rebelling against the agony. The dizziness overtook her; Calleigh felt the pain spread like fire-hot needles throughout her entire body. It was too, too much, and her body was simply too weak._

_Unable to hold herself up, Calleigh's muscles gave out and she fell limply to the ground once more._

_And then, there was simply nothingness. Empty, bleak nothingness._

_The next thing she knew, Calleigh was hearing voices again, though none of them were the same as before. These were clearer, much louder and much closer. But more importantly than those voices, it seemed that the agony had lessened. Her body still ached from the force of the blast, but the pain had faded so much that Calleigh suddenly wondered just how long she'd been unconscious. _

_It took the greatest strength, but finally Calleigh was able to force her eyes open, blinking a few times in an effort to clear her clouded vision. With a deep groan, she managed to struggle her way to a sitting position, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm the spinning in her head. It took a few moments, but eventually her vision cleared enough to accurately take in her new surroundings. _

_She groaned again – how had she gotten here? The spacious, comfortable room overlooking the stormy sea was no more; instead, Calleigh found herself on the cold, dusty stone floor of what seemed to be a basement. The walls were a simple grey stone, bare and cold and giving the small room every bit the feel of a dungeon. The only light in the entire room came from a single lightbulb hanging from overhead; weakly it flickered as though it might give out at any moment. There appeared to be no way out – Calleigh was trapped, but that was not the realization that started her heart pounding with fear once more. _

_Glancing around carefully, Calleigh soon realized from where the new voices had come. In the far corner, there gathered a small group – whether they were men or women, Calleigh couldn't tell. Their backs were to her, as if they had no idea she was there. Head to toe, they were dressed in what appeared to be identical black capes; trenchcoats, perhaps – they were too far away, and Calleigh's vision was still too blurry to tell. _

_For the longest time, they didn't move. Only when Calleigh had closed her eyes, feeling the need to preserve what little strength she still had, did the voices suddenly come to a hush. Calleigh's eyes snapped open again, just in time to see the small group disperse, all but one of them separating to the two adjoining walls. And in the center where they met was the sight that left Calleigh gasping, her heart all but stopping._

_It was Jake, on his knees on the ground, facing her, facing the man who Calleigh assumed to be the leader of the group. Suddenly, every one of her senses was on full alert. From where she kneeled, Calleigh could tell that he was injured. A deep gash lined his temple, from which a slow trickle of blood was drying as it made its trek downward. The simple tee he wore was torn in several places, the signs of a struggle clear upon it, and Calleigh was certain that if it weren't a darker shirt, there would be obvious signs of blood upon it. He was struggling with every breath; that much was plain both upon his face and in the way his shoulders rose and fell. His hands were tightly bound behind his back, and Calleigh could see in the shaking of his bare arms the power with which he clenched his fists. But despite the pain Calleigh was sure he was in, Jake met his opposition with a cold defiance in his eyes and a bold scowl upon his lips._

_It was typical Jake Berkeley – never back down. Never._

_Calleigh swallowed hard as the leader took a step closer to Jake, his boots echoing loudly on the stone below. "You ready to talk yet, rat?" he sneered, and though Calleigh couldn't see his face, she could easily envision the displeased glower that decorated his features._

_If possible, the defiance etched upon Jake's face only intensified, so much that Calleigh couldn't help but cower a bit herself. But the fear that filled her wasn't fear _of_ him; it was fear _for_ him. That defiance was crucial to his survival undercover, but Calleigh couldn't quell the sudden fearful inkling that it was that very defiance that, this time, was going to get him killed. And she could do no more than sit by and watch – she tried to move, but her limbs simply did not respond to the direction of her brain. She was helpless, and it was a horrific feeling. But even if she could have moved…she wasn't sure there was anything she could do, not with the crowd that still hung back, just against the walls. _

_Jake growled in response, his eyes as cold as his voice. "Not a chance, Zeke. You'll never get anything outta me."_

_His eyes never wavered, not once. But his captor seemed completely undeterred by Jake's lack of cooperation, and Calleigh couldn't help but wonder how long this game had gone on. "See, I thought you might say that…"_

_With deliberate steps, he – Zeke, apparently – closed the rest of the distance between himself and Jake, and Calleigh felt the trepidation within her grow to a stifling, crushing amount. For a moment, Zeke only stood directly in front of Jake, drawing the moment out. A low mumble made its way through the crowd. Calleigh held her breath, fearful of what was to come._

_When it came, there was no warning. As swiftly as a bolt of lightning, Zeke lifted his knee and shoved it forcefully against Jake's nose. There was a sickening crack, but to Calleigh, that wasn't nearly as nauseating as the sound of Jake crying out in agony as his nose was broken. It was too much, and Calleigh couldn't help but avert her eyes._

_When finally she could look back to him, the sight ripped a painful gasp from her throat. The blood had spattered against his face and the wall behind him; it poured from his nose, and Calleigh swallowed hard at the ghostly pallor his face had taken on. "Jake…" she breathed out, much too quietly for anyone else to hear. The grimace that pulled at his lips broke her heart – it was the one thing she had most in common with Jake, the unwillingness to ever appear broken. And broken was exactly what he was right now. Jake Berkeley was not one to show pain, so to show anything at all was proof enough just how badly he was hurting._

_Zeke merely chuckled as he backed away again, seemingly thrilled at the sight before him. "Hurts, doesn't it, boy? You know, you don't have to take any more." He paused, glancing around to the crowd. "All you have to do is answer my question…who are you working for, and what have you told them?"_

_Jake scowled defiantly. "Only – only that I'm stuck running around with a bunch of utter idiots."_

_Calleigh flinched – it was such a Jake answer, even in the face of death. His answer drew a deadly snicker from Zeke, and from where she sat, Calleigh could see him slowly shake his head. "And yet, it is only an idiot who would be stupid enough to give an answer such as that. Now…" He trailed off, drawing close to Jake once more. "Try again."_

_"I told you," Jake growled, shaking his head. It was all he could do in an effort to shake the blood away from his face; it was terribly ineffective. "If you were as good as you pretend to be, you wouldn't have to pry it outta me."_

_Zeke, however, remained seemingly unperturbed. For a moment, he said nothing, simply choosing to pace lightly in front of Jake. "I think…that you are bluffing. I don't think you've given them anything at all."_

_"Yeah, you'll be saying that when they come after you," Jake spat, his voice a venomous growl. When he found the strength to continue, the fear in his voice was pierced by the slightest hint of arrogance – he knew his fate, and from that he was determined not to back away. "They'll track you down. They've been tracking your every move – you just haven't realized it. And – and when they find you, you're all goin' down. Every single one of you."_

_Zeke laughed derisively. "That's what you think, Jakey-boy. Cute speech, though." As quick as a flash of lightning, he was in front of Jake again, yanking him abruptly to his feet and pressing him roughly against the stone wall. From his pocket, he quickly produced a shiny, silver blade, and before Jake could even perceive the motion, the blade was pressed harshly against his throat. Calleigh gasped, only to have the sound swallowed by the thick fear permeating the atmosphere. "You always were all talk and no action…"_

_Abruptly he lifted his head, looking around to the other dark figures surrounding them. Pulling the knife away from Jake's throat – saving that for later, Calleigh had the sneaking suspicion – the man roughly shoved him back to the ground, and Calleigh flinched as his body hit the stone ground with a sickening thud. "Come on, boys," he encouraged darkly. "Let's show this traitor what _real_ action is…"_

_That was obviously the signal they'd been waiting for. Without another word, they closed in, sealing Jake away from Calleigh's sight. She cried out, protesting, but her voice was merely silenced by the tension in the air. She could only see through the spaces between them, but that was enough for her. She could see the sweat beading upon Jake's forehead, and suddenly her stomach gave a sickening lurch. It was then that she knew for sure – despite the defiance upon his face, Calleigh knew that the same cold feeling of despair swirled through Jake's veins as pulsed through her own. He didn't believe any more than she did that he was making it out of this alive. And yet, despite that, his eyes remained cold and hard. Calleigh couldn't decide if that was bravery, or just pure stupidity._

_Jake wasn't stupid, though. Reckless at times, but never stupid, and abruptly the realization crashed into her, stealing her breath and leaving her dizzier than she already was. There had to be a reason he was doing this; had to be a reason why he didn't care for the salvation of his own life. Something greater was keeping him from talking, from giving them what they wanted to hear, but try as she might, Calleigh just couldn't perceive it._

_And then, the crowd around Jake closed in completely – Calleigh could no longer see through to him. But what she suddenly could not see was quickly replaced by everything that she could hear. _

_She wished so much that she could block it out, the sharp thuds of boots against muscle, the harsh crack of fists into bone, and even more than that, the anguished grunts of pain from the man hidden behind the dark crowd. It killed Calleigh to sit there and listen, unable to do anything at all. The time drew on, and Calleigh wished desperately that Jake would just give in, just compromise the integrity of the case at hand, if only it would deliver him from the agony he was enduring and the death that would surely come._

_In reality, it wasn't long before Zeke lifted a hand, bringing a full stop to the torture that had begun, but to Calleigh it felt like it had gone on for an eternity. Once more, a deep silence filled the stone-walled room as the crowd backed away, revealing an even more battered and broken Jake, on his side on the ground. At the sight of him, Calleigh bit hard into her cheek, so hard that the metallic taste of her own blood filtered into her mouth. _

_"I'll give you one more chance," Zeke snarled, his lip curling as, once more, he shoved his boot into Jake's stomach – it might've been the hundredth he'd received, but it was the first that Calleigh actually saw, and it took every fiber of willpower to force back the nausea. He sputtered, and though he was physically broken, his resolve remained intact – and likely would, Calleigh realized with horror, until he took his final breath. "One more chance to tell us what you've told your little fed friends. Tell us the truth – don't lie to us, and maybe, just maybe we'll…return the favor." Pausing, he smirked as a derisive snicker circulated through the masked crowd. "Maybe we'll make your death a little quicker and a little less painful."_

_Jake swallowed hard, the agony in his stomach leaving him nauseous. Somehow, with the agony wracking his body and his hands bound behind his back, he managed to draw himself upright again, coughing as he struggled for breath. "You have about as much – as much intention of doing that as I do of telling you anything," he forced out, his voice a deadly whisper._

_"With that attitude," Zeke snarled, slashing the knife through the air, "you are absolutely correct." With that, he turned to face the crowd, singling out one member in particular. And then, he whispered the words that left Calleigh's blood running cold. "I'm done with him. _

_Lazily, he tossed the blade to the man he'd singled out. Catching it deftly, the hooded figure twirled the knife between his fingers, and Calleigh couldn't deny the icy block of fear that plunged into her stomach. She'd had the distinct impression that Zeke was more talk than action, but this man? He meant business, Calleigh was sure. There was just something about him that left Calleigh's skin crawling…and what frightened her the most was that there was an almost familiarity about him. She couldn't see his face, but somehow, Calleigh knew she didn't really want to see him. _

_Calleigh let out a strangled cry as Zeke once more reached down for Jake, lifting him roughly to his feet and moving behind him – the new position offered him the best ability to clasp his hands tightly around Jake's throat. A sinister smile crept across his lips as Jake struggled futilely, his air supply diminishing by the second. His eyes were focused on the man with the knife, and sharply he nodded. "Do it," he hissed. _

_Between the lack of oxygen and the pain already inflicted upon him, Jake's eyes were visibly watering, though his jaw remained set in vicious defiance. He still wasn't going to give in, even though that would surely lead to his death. _

_The man with the knife slowly made his approach, chuckling slightly as he stopped in front of the helpless, restrained man. Reaching out, he lazily drew the blade lazily along Jake's cheek. "You…you have caused me _so_ much pain, so much grief. It's time for that to be repaid…" He pressed harder, effectively breaking the skin and leaving behind a thin, deep crimson gash. Jake twitched, unable to fight completely off the urge to wince in pain. It was agonizing to watch, and Calleigh desperately wished she could shield her eyes, but she couldn't look away. Her eyes remained transfixed upon him, watching as the thin line of crimson slowly grew and grew before a single, shimmering droplet broke away from the rest and followed a slow path downward along his face. The visual sickened Calleigh; made the situation all too real for her. _

_Jake was going to die. He was going to die, and she was going to be forced to watch. _

_The man with the knife spoke again, and Calleigh shivered at the pure anger that dripped from his words. "You ruined everything. Everything." Gradually he lowered his arm and brought the knife away from Jake's face, drawing out the anticipation for as long as he could. "You should have died a long time ago."_

_And that was the final sentence._

_Unable to shout, Jake gave a strangled gasp as the knife quickly punctured his abdomen, shoved deep into his stomach. An explosion of agony engulfed Calleigh's own body, the silent cry issuing from her lips echoing the same that fell from Jake's as the knife was again forced into his abdomen, the sound of sinister laughter growing in the air as he was stabbed over and over again, forced to remain on his feet by the arm wrapped tightly around his throat. He sputtered, his eyes wide, and Calleigh felt her own stomach clench violently as the pool of blood at his feet grew as the life poured out of him._

_The sixth was the final gut-wrenching wound, and if watching the horror unfold hadn't been agonizing enough, the sight that blossomed before her eyes now was enough to leave her gasping for air, grasping for the control of her immobile body. The man with the knife stepped silently back, the vivid sight of blood – Jake's blood - dripping from the blade violently churning her stomach. Zeke grinned, finally releasing Jake from his grip._

_For an agonizing moment, it seemed time had frozen. _

_And then, Jake merely crumpled to the ground without a sound, his body still and lifeless in the growing crimson pool below. Calleigh screamed out his name, unable to stop herself. Her heart had all but stopped, but the adrenaline still pumped through her veins, leaving her desperate to break the invisible bonds that held her. She needed to go to him; he couldn't – couldn't possibly be – he just couldn't._

_But the limp, motionless body on the ground contradicted her mind. There was nothing at all, no sound, no twitch, nothing, not even with the last forceful shove of Zeke's boot against his body. No response. And suddenly, Calleigh felt the moisture against her frozen cheeks – silent tears that had flooded her eyes, her entire being plunged into the deepest despair, the utmost grief. And the men who had taken away the most important part of her life merely laughed about it, the hollow sound driving a deep stake into Calleigh's heart._

_And then, the one who had driven the blade over and over into Jake's defenseless body turned to her, seeing her for the first time. A flash of electricity flooded Calleigh's body, leaving her once more feeling burned from the inside out. Despite the agony, she couldn't look away. Her eyes followed him from his completely obscured face down to his hands, one still clutching the blade that had killed her – her – that had killed Jake. Even as he slowly began to approach her, Calleigh found she couldn't turn her eyes away from that blade. _

_ She held her breath as his silent footsteps brought him closer, her eyes following every tiny motion of that knife. The metal still glistened with fresh blood, dripping from the end and falling to the cold stone below. Jake's blood, Calleigh realized with a burst of nausea. Mere feet from her he lay, and Calleigh could do no more than watch the figure who approached her._

_He stopped before her, and Calleigh could only give a silent gasp as he lifted the blade high above her head. Lifting her eyes, Calleigh watched as, almost in slow motion, a single droplet of metallic blood lingered at the very point before being released, plummeting through the stagnant air above her. And while she saw it, she couldn't help but be startled as it fell upon her cheek, burning her skin with the intensity of a flame. She couldn't, however, lift a hand to brush it away – she was immobile once more, unable to do anything more than tremble._

_The blade remained still as the figure raised his other hand, leaving Calleigh's eyes no choice but to follow it. His fingers grasped the hood that obscured his face, slowly and deliberately pushing the material back from his face. And Calleigh could do little more than gasp weakly as his identity was revealed – she would know those dark eyes anywhere. _

_But though they were so very familiar, they carried such a deep hollowness that Calleigh had never seen before, not in him. _

_Those dark eyes…they belonged unquestionably to Eric._

_But this…it couldn't be the Eric she had known for years, the Eric she had trusted so many times with her life. He wouldn't – he couldn't…_

_Her lips parted, though no sound escaped as she tried to whisper his name, a plea, anything. But even if she had been able to summon her voice, it would've been to no avail. Eric's eyes remained unapologetic as he spoke, his voice a deathly chill piercing the very depth of Calleigh's being. "You did all this," he whispered._

_He gestured lightly with the knife, and Calleigh couldn't help but flinch; couldn't help but know what was to come. "This is all your fault. All of it."_

_His grip tightened on the knife, and Calleigh tensed, her heart pounding. She couldn't move, couldn't make any attempt to save herself, and she knew that as well as Eric did. "You did all of this, and now you're getting what you deserve." He paused, and try as she might, Calleigh could not look away from his eyes. This wasn't the Eric she knew; it couldn't be. Those dark, unfeeling eyes couldn't belong to the man who always came to mind before anyone else when she thought of her dearest, closest friend, despite the blinding fact that the voice that escaped his lips was irrevocably his, cold and deadly though it was. "You deserve nothing but agony."_

_And then, as quick as a flash of lightning, Eric swiftly plunged the knife down toward her._

**..**

A good thirty-five minutes after she had awoken, Calleigh still knelt in front of the toilet, her body shaking violently as her stomach continued to lurch at the memories. Her throat burned with the acid that continued to churn its way up, but that was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.

It had easily been the most horrific dream she'd _ever_ had, and that was considering every memorable dream she'd experienced in the past year. She'd awoken ill from them before, but none of the dreams had left her so unsteady for so long. The effects just wouldn't leave her. Her heart raced, pounding violently against her ribcage, the rhythm so quick that it drained her energy and left her even more exhausted. She couldn't breathe either; couldn't find the oxygen that should have been so easy to utilize. She would draw in a breath, only to feel her lungs continue to burn in protest; it was as if her body had forgotten how to process the necessary air.

Blanket wrapped around her, Calleigh tried desperately to fight back the shudders of her body, but the more she fought, it seemed the harder she shook. Normally, she was able to shake nightmares off as what they were – simply nightmares. But this one…it had felt all too real. Even now, Calleigh would swear she could feel the aching in her limbs, same as she'd experienced in the dream. And she would _never_ forget the fear she'd awoken to – it was so all-encompassing, a fear so intense that she'd only felt it very few other times in her life.

She'd awoken in tears, her vision so blurred that it took a good couple of minutes to convince herself that she truly was within the safety of her own bed, and not locked away in some basement somewhere, watching Jake endure such horrific torture. With that single recollection, _everything_ had rushed to her in a vivid filmstrip of memories.

_Jake, collapsing into a pool of his own blood…_

_Eric, dropping the knife toward her…_

_Hailey, stretching her hands out to the window, almost as if reaching for the lightning itself…_

_The torture._

_The agony._

_All the blood…_

_Because of you.  
_

Jake had been brutally stabbed to death right in front of her, all while she'd been unable to shout, unable to rush forward, unable to do anything useful at all. She'd been forced to watch the life drain out of him, and nothing had ever terrified her so dearly. Even just recalling it now left her stomach turning, and quickly Calleigh forced the thoughts away, knowing she couldn't deal with the nausea anymore right now.

As it was, it was nothing short of a miracle that Calleigh had shot up and out of the bed and made it to the bathroom floor in time. The nausea had taken her stomach in an icy grip that refused to relent, even now as she was absolutely certain there was nothing left but acid to expel. A cold sweat had broken upon her brow, but Calleigh lacked the energy to lift a hand and brush it away, despite the added chill it bestowed upon her tormented body. At the time, she'd had no idea what had sickened her so terrible. Jake's death? Eric's betrayal? Hailey's disappearance? As the clock had ticked, though, she'd begun to linger on only one of those, and it wasn't exactly the one she'd expected.

Beyond that, it baffled her, how a dream could start out so good, so very perfect, and end just the opposite. In the beginning, she'd been happy. It seemed she'd had everything she wanted and couldn't possibly ask for more, but slowly and surely, it was all taken away from her by the end of the dream. Jake. Hailey. Eric. Her own life.

Was that what she was destined for? Losing everything?

Had she already found that symbolic happiness only to lose it over the years?

Was she now in the part of her life where everything would be taken away from her?

They were deep considerations, but the more Calleigh pushed them through her racing mind, the more she found she couldn't ignore them. She'd lost Jake again. She'd lost Eric's friendship. She felt as if she were slowly losing her mind. And Hailey…though she'd never actually had her, Calleigh felt as though she'd lost the little girl as well.

It was too much to bear, and Calleigh was suddenly thankful that she lacked the energy to cry. The tears she'd awoken to find on her cheeks were all that she could expend; any more than that would likely have her collapsing.

Closing her eyes, Calleigh slowly straightened up, attempting to find some position a little more comfortable. She settled for resting against the cold tile wall, knees drawn as close to her chest as possible. Even wrapping her arms around her knees did very little to stop the trembling, and it was then that Calleigh couldn't help but draw something else from the nightmare.

It _had_ been a nightmare.

But what if it meant something truly _was_ wrong?

And rationally, that explanation made perfect sense. With the stress that Calleigh had been facing, everything within the dream was understandable, save for one certain aspect.

She could easily explain the beginning – Calleigh was lonely. Eric had harshly pointed that out to her in their fight that day, and she couldn't deny it. Jake was gone, Eric was…complicated, and Calleigh had been left alone and confused. There were two men who professed to wanting to be with her, and yet her nights through the past several weeks had been spent without either of them. She _was_ lonely, and she'd shared so many more sensual nights – under any other circumstance, Calleigh's cheeks might've flushed as she recalled the beginning of the dream – with Jake than with Eric; after all, Eric had only had the one night, and that had been a grave mistake as far as their deep friendship was concerned. It made sense that she would dream of Jake.

And then when he had disappeared, Calleigh had been taunted once more with the prospect of little Hailey Jade. Even that was easily explained. It was simple; Hailey had been haunting her dreams for what seemed an eternity now. It was only natural that Calleigh's maternal yearning for the little girl, her daughter, would bring her back to her dreams over and over again, especially since Calleigh often found herself falling asleep to thoughts of the girl.

Plus, Hailey had proven herself in previous dreams to be a bit of a daredevil, and Calleigh had often been fearful of the situations it might put her in. That part was, for the most part, also reasonable, even if the manner in which Hailey had been taken was a bit on the bizarre side.

And then there was Eric…

She _knew_ how Eric had wormed his way into the dream. The fight she'd had with him that day still weighed heavily upon her heart; he'd been _so _very angry, so very hurt. And the accusations that he had lobbed at both herself and Jake within the dream – Calleigh knew that was no stretch of the imagination. Maybe in Eric's mind, Jake _had_ ruined everything. Maybe Calleigh _had_ deserved the pain inflicted upon her at the end. Maybe Eric _did_ wish death upon Jake…and perhaps her as well – whether he did or didn't, Calleigh knew she deserved for him to think of her that way, as dearly as she'd hurt him.

That left one aspect to question. The torture that Jake had experienced; Calleigh had no idea where that had come from. On the one hand, she knew it was always risky for him to work undercover, and if he were ever made for a cop, the consequences _would_ be dire. However, Jake had sheltered her from the brunt of it; he'd never allowed himself to share what he'd seen on the streets, what could possibly happen to him if he pissed off the wrong person somewhere in the hierarchy.

Calleigh had, however, read those papers, the ones he'd tried to hide from her.

She'd read them, and had nearly the same reaction as she was having now.

She knew that this assignment he was currently on was likely the most dangerous that he had ever taken.

And that could explain why she'd dreamed that kind of torture.

It did _not_ fully explain why her heart felt so empty, why her stomach felt so icy.

It didn't fully explain why she was rising shakily to her feet after over an hour on the bathroom floor without explicit permission from her brain. It didn't fully explain why she was wrapping her blanket tightly around her shoulders before venturing out into the dark, into the hallway with one destination in mind. But then again, but the time she'd made it there, her head was spinning so violently that trying to explain anything else would be a ridiculous endeavor to undertake.

Unable to second guess herself, Calleigh allowed her feet to guide the way, blindly trusting where they would take her. And somehow, she managed to stagger her way out to the chilly foyer, every step requiring more energy than the one before. Halfway there, she'd worried that she might collapse, but somehow she found the strength to continue.

Stepping into the foyer, she blindly extended a hand, her fingers seeking out the lightswitch upon the wall. Once she found it, the foyer was illuminated with a soft glow, so unlike the flickering lights that had haunted her dream. By all accounts, this light should have comforted her, but Calleigh only found herself even more unsettled.

And perhaps that was due to the simple piece of furniture that faced her, the small varnished table with the single drawer. Never before had a simple table seemed so…so intimidating.

But then again, Calleigh knew that it wasn't really the table at all – it was what was inside the drawer.

_Jake's letter._

He'd hurt her so badly; all she'd wanted to do was ignore it forever. Let it be hidden away out of sight until it was long gone and forgotten about. But now, as her mind replayed her nightmare again and again on an endless loop before her eyes, Calleigh couldn't help but acknowledge the fear that had clutched her heart, submerging it into an icy well of terror. That letter, those words on paper…

It hit her with a chill that nearly brought her to her knees - there was always a chance that those could be the last words Jake ever had for her.

And having finally realized that, Calleigh couldn't ignore it any longer.


	43. One Thousand Confessions

**_Chapter Forty-Three_**  
_**One Thousand Confessions**  
-**  
**_

Her heart was pounding violently against the wall of her chest, _so_ violently that Calleigh found she could barely stand. She felt almost as though she were preparing to jump from a plane several miles in the sky, or take a dive right into the middle of a known shark habitat, or something equally as dangerous. And that was ridiculous – it was only a letter, and the only danger was that of a possible papercut.

But that wasn't entirely true, and Calleigh couldn't ignore it. There was even a part of her that might have preferred the skydiving and the sharks to the revelation of the letter. Did she _really_ want to subject herself to more heartache because of Jake Berkeley? He might be out of her life for good this time; why couldn't she just leave it that way and begin the healing process? Why awaken the sleeping ghosts that might lie within that ominous envelope in the drawer before her?

Because she _couldn't_ allow them to sleep any longer, Calleigh knew. While they slept, she didn't. While she tried to ignore it, it only ate away even more at the edge of her consciousness, making itself known in the most painful of ways – she _couldn't_ forget. Couldn't forget about the letter, couldn't forget about _him_. Somehow, Jake still had some inexplicable hold upon her, something that affected every decision she made, every thought that passed through her tired mind. And it was because of that that Calleigh found herself in the foyer, drawing open that little drawer on that small table, and facing the ghosts she'd been fearing for…she couldn't even remember how long it had been. The letter had been in her possession for only a short while, but it seemed like she'd been fearing something bigger than that, something of which that letter was only one small part.

And now, it was before her eyes. So simple, so unassuming, so apparently harmless. A simple white envelope, embellished only by her name on the front of it – and yet, even just the sight of the scrawled letters in Jake's somewhat messy yet entirely readable handwriting left her with a tightness in her chest that Calleigh couldn't quite ignore. And before she could even think to stop herself, before she could even comprehend the action, her hands were reaching for the envelope almost as though drawn by a magnet, drawn by a stronger force than anything Calleigh might be able to deny. She watched as her fingers slowly curled around the edges of the envelope and brought it oh so slowly out of the drawer. It was heavy in her hands, a heaviness that filled Calleigh with a deep sense of foreboding, a feeling that she simply could not shake. _Ink on a page,_ she told herself. _That's all it is._ But despite the words she repeated in her mind, Calleigh couldn't ignore the fact that she didn't believe that. Somehow, she _knew_ it was more than that; more than just words.

For the moment though, her attention was drawn elsewhere, captured by something else, something entirely unexpected. In the void left behind by the letter, there was something, something that glimmered in the low light of the foyer, and it wasn't until Calleigh leaned closer that she realized exactly what it was.

Stashed away with the letter in that drawer was the key she'd given Jake so long ago, and the sight of it there plunged an undeniable block of ice into her already unstable stomach. Left behind, a final remnant of the trust they'd once shared, the trust that'd been shattered again by secrets and lies. _His_ secrets and lies…but also hers too – she couldn't deny that. Clutching his letter in one hand, Calleigh cautiously reached for the key with a trembling hand – she paused halfway and squeezed her hand into a fist in an attempt to stop that, but it failed as she'd known it would. Her fingers curled slowly around the cool metal, and Calleigh couldn't help but wince as though burned – burned by the memories that flashed through the endless filmstrip in her mind. Suddenly the prickle of tears made its way uninvited to her eyes, and instinctively Calleigh squeezed them shut, trying to stave them off. She was _done_ crying for him; she couldn't do it anymore. He'd made his decision – it was the job that was important. Always the job, and never her. Never. A man who made decisions like that didn't deserve her tears.

Knowing that, Calleigh knew she should carelessly toss the key back into the drawer, leaving it there for the next who might hold it, were there ever to be another one. She shouldn't _care_. Shouldn't give it a second thought. But there was just something about the idea of Jake relinquishing his hold upon that key that shook her to the core as she enclosed it tightly within her grasp.

It was in such stark contrast to the medallion he'd left her with. That, he'd left in her possession, around her neck and in her caring hands; he'd left it with her knowing she would keep it safe. But his key…it was almost as though he'd tossed it out without another thought; he hadn't thought to tell her, hadn't thought to make sure she knew there wasn't a spare key to her home floating around out there – he'd simply gotten rid of it. Her heart gave a sudden clench, the pain catching Calleigh completely by surprise. Something she'd trusted to him, cast so carelessly by the wayside…

It was too much. Her teeth dug into her lower lip as she lay the key gently back in the drawer and shut it away, unable to entertain the sight of it any longer. It hurt more than she was willing to admit, and really, it was easier just to ignore it. Ignore it, pretend she'd never seen it.

Pushing the key from her mind, however, left room for the weight that filled her other hand, the weight that crushed upon her heart and left her struggling for air, struggling for the willpower to merely remain standing. She was weakened, both from exhaustion and emotion, and even in her clouded mind Calleigh knew she'd never make it to the comfort of the couch or her bed, or even the kitchen table – her feet simply wouldn't carry her all the way there. It was a miracle she'd made it all the way to the foyer, as completely worn down as she was.

Her aching heart was pounding, pounding so frantically that it left her dizzy. She could hear nothing but the rush of blood through her ears, but even that wasn't loud enough to drown out the questions and fears within her mind. When Eric had brought her this letter, she'd resolved not to open it. If Jake had wanted to make sure she'd open it, he should've brought it to her himself, she reasoned. He'd spoken to her before he left – that was a day that stood out quite vividly in Calleigh's memory; his scent, his arms around her, his lips on hers as they kissed one last time – _stop it_, she silently berated herself. _He's gone_.

But that declaration didn't soothe her; if anything, it only intensified that overbearing sense of panic, a feeling she couldn't quite shake. And this time, not even the silent mantras she'd relied on before –_he left you again; he didn't want you, just like before; you should hate him for doing this to you again, for making you believe that he wouldn't –_ were enough to quell that panic, that fear.

And it _was_ fear. It was a fear that had settled deep in the pit of her stomach in the wake of her nightmare, a fear that had lurked just beneath the surface for weeks now. Before, it had simply been easier to ignore…because before, she wasn't imagining him being beaten and stabbed to death, the blood pouring from his battered body as his life slowly slipped away, as his heart tried and failed to compensate for the excessive loss of blood. Maybe it _was_ simply a nightmare, but nothing, _nothing_ had ever felt so real before, and even now, the images physically sickened her. Squeezing her eyes shut only worsened it; there was _nothing_ she could do to drive the visuals away.

Even worse than that were the screams. Calleigh had _never_ heard Jake cry out like that before, in sheer terror, in such agony. He was being tortured, and just the acknowledgment of that was enough to fill her veins with ice. She was chilled to the bone with fear for him – she'd read the details of his assignment, after all. Calleigh knew the danger he was in, and danger was putting it lightly. And while Calleigh wasn't sure what she wanted when it came to Jake Berkeley, she absolutely did not want him dead. She didn't want him hurt, didn't want him in danger at all.

The question, however, had been the same all along: what _did_ she want?

_Hailey_.

And that was the only answer she was absolutely certain was correct. She _wanted_ Hailey; she wanted the choice that would bring her Hailey, which made making the wrong decision an even more devastating prospect. What if Hailey was destined to be Eric's, and she chose Jake? What if she was destined to be Jake's, and she chose Eric? Either would lead to the same end – no Hailey.

Weakened from both exhaustion and emotion, Calleigh slowly lowered herself to the floor right there in the foyer, knowing that while her aching muscles craved a more inviting environment, perhaps the warmth of her bed or even the couch, she completely lacked the energy to pull herself anywhere else. The lack of substantial sleep left her head aching, but despite this her mind continued to race with thoughts and fears as Calleigh found herself still unable to escape the dream that haunted her, the nightmare that had pushed her to retrieve the letter, but now left her hesitating as she held it in her hands. Would reading it really make her choice any easier? Could there possibly be _anything_ in Jake's words that she hadn't known before? Perhaps it would even just complicate everything even more…if that were actually possible.

She hadn't seen Eric in a couple of days, hadn't seen Jake in what felt like ages, had _never_ actually seen Hailey, but still each of their faces danced so vividly through her mind, each one bringing along a thousand unanswered questions. Wracking her brain, Calleigh desperately searched for the answers that only her subconscious clearly knew. Again and again the images flitted through her mind, each one just as vivid as it had been the first time – Calleigh was certain none of them would fade for a very long time. She felt the fear as Hailey reached out to the window, just before the stormy night sky erupted in a flash of lightning, consuming everything in a brilliant explosion, one that had apparently claimed Hailey as a casualty – _that_ thought left Calleigh drawing her knees in toward her chest, fighting back the nausea that had never fully abated. The idea of losing Hailey, despite her being little more than a dream at the moment, was simply unimaginable. Dream or not, that _was_ her daughter; that much Calleigh couldn't deny.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, she watched yet again as the images progressed, as a very clearly agonized Jake took stab after stab to the stomach; she felt the horror yet again as the figure revealed himself to be none other than Eric, whose cold words still chilled her blood.

_"This is all your fault. All of it."_

She didn't need to question what the words meant. Eric's agony, Hailey's fear, her own heartache…what didn't fit was the torment that Jake was enduring. _He_ had been the one to hurt _her_, not the other way around. How could what she'd witnessed in her nightmare possibly be her fault? She didn't know, and frankly, she didn't _want_ to know, because repeatedly watching Jake die in her imagination was much too horrifying for her to bear.

Instead, she allowed her mind to travel a different path. There was no questioning it; she knew that all of this had come about because she hadn't been able to make a clear-cut choice. Jake or Eric? She'd tried to approach it scientifically, not wanting to choose until she knew without a doubt which choice was right – she'd spent enough of her time repenting for making other wrong choices in her life, and this wasn't one she wanted to add to that list. There was simply nothing easy about it – she cared about Eric; she cared about Jake. Neither was perfect, yet both were as equally flawed. Was either choice really better than the other? That was what Calleigh had agonized over – would she ever really realize which one of them truly held her heart?

And if she didn't…

Her heart clenched so tightly in her chest that Calleigh could barely breathe. She knew where _that_ was leading, as desperately as she wished she could ignore it. If she didn't make a decision, if she didn't make the _right_ decision, part of her nightmare _would_ come true.

There would _be_ no hope for Hailey.

Her fingers clenched tightly around the letter she'd almost forgotten she still held. She'd stood from the bathroom floor; she'd walked from her bedroom with a purpose, a need to finally do what she should have done when the letter first made its way into her possession. Truth was, she really didn't want to know what was inside. She certainly wouldn't admit it, not even to herself, but there was even a fear that gripped her, just as tightly as she gripped the letter. She was afraid of what her eyes might find; she wasn't sure that she was strong enough to handle whatever might be written there.

Sitting alone in her foyer, she wasn't sure she was strong enough for anything anymore. In the past, she'd faced bullets, vengeful criminals, even the submersion of her Hummer in one of the many canals during all of her years of police work, and yet, in the end, all it took to break her was two men, a letter, and dreams of a little girl with blonde hair and dark brown eyes.

Exhaling deeply, Calleigh blinked back the sting of tears in her eyes, though barely did she have even the energy to accomplish that. She'd never been so entirely out of control of her emotions before; then again, she'd never really been this physically _and_ mentally exhausted before either. Her walls weren't simply down; they'd been _crushed. _Every barrier she'd ever protected herself with lay crumbled at her feet; looking down at the letter in her hands, she couldn't help but shake her head in acknowledgment of an illogical outcome, one she'd only before ever encountered in a child's game. Paper, it seemed, truly did conquer rock.

Almost without her even realizing the motion, Calleigh's fingers slowly lifted the unsealed flap on the back of the envelope, pushing away and revealing the paper within. For only a moment did she hesitate; the trepidation was weighing heavily on her heart, but accompanying that was an even more pressing need. And that was exactly what it was – a _need_. She needed to do this; knowing that, she shakily slipped the pages from the envelope, letting it fall silently to the floor by her feet.

Only when they pages were completely unfolded before her did Calleigh falter again, and this time, it was not because of apprehension. This time, it was because she had no choice; she'd been utterly unprepared for this. The familiar scrawl of his handwriting tugged dearly at her heart, almost as if pulling her down into his words, leaving her entirely unable to turn back. And she knew that once she began, there _would_ be no going back. After all, she couldn't un-read his words; couldn't pretend she hadn't finally allowed them to wash over her.

And yet, even knowing that, knowing that the truth might destroy her, Calleigh still couldn't pry her eyes away.

It started with a simple salutation, just her name affixed to the top of the first page, identical to the letters that had adorned the front of the envelope. It was plain, without embellishment, but then again, Jake had rarely needed to embellish anything to command her attention.

For a second, Calleigh closed her eyes, nibbling anxiously at her lower lip as she prayed for the mental fortitude not to continue, but to finish. Continuing was inevitable; finishing would be the difficult part, she knew. When she was certain she was calm enough for this, Calleigh slowly blinked her eyes open, drawing in a deep breath before exhaling deeply.

And then, she began.

_Calleigh -_

_I think that I've been sitting here for half the night, maybe even longer, just trying to find some way to start this. You'd think I'd have somewhere to begin, what with everything I know I need to say to you, but I just don't know. None of the words feel right, and every time I feel like I have something, it just doesn't feel like enough – all the crumpled sheets of paper surrounding me are testament to that. But if I give up, if I just push this to the side and forget about it, I know I'll never forgive myself. I may still never forgive myself, but if I can just get onto paper even a little of what I'm feeling right now, I'll know I will have tried. _

_Once upon a time, you told me that the only thing I was scared of was failure. I'm not entirely sure if that's what I'm afraid of most right now – all I know is that this is quite possibly the most cowardly thing I have ever done, writing you this letter. But at this point, I'm out of options. You won't hear me out, and I don't blame you. I wouldn't give me the chance either – to be honest, I wouldn't have given me the first of the second chances._

_With this letter, though, I'm asking for one last chance – this is it. It's your choice; everything I have to say is all here, everything I should've told you from the very beginning. It's your choice to read it or not – if you don't, I would completely understand. And if so…well, I can't say that it's a definite that I'll ever know that you did or didn't read this, because odds are that I'll never see you again anyway._

_I'm sorry it's coming to you on paper instead of in person – you deserve to be told all of this in person, not in a letter. I should have told you in the very beginning, but I was convinced that it wouldn't come to this. I thought I could take care of it; I thought I could do it without losing you again. But yet again, I failed. So many times I failed you, and you can't even begin to know the regret I hold over that. _

_I'm sorry. I know I can say that over and over, and it won't mean a thing because you've heard it from me so many times before. I just wish there was something I could do this time, something I could say so you could know how much I truly mean it. I'm sorry for everything._

_The last thing I ever, ever wanted to do was hurt you. I would give anything if only I could make you believe that. I know it's probably all just too little too late. I couldn't leave, though, without making sure I'd done all that I could to make sure you knew all of this. So this is me, Cal; this is me giving you everything you should've been given before, and I can only pray that someday you will forgive me. I don't deserve it, but I can hope. _

_My actions, all my lies – they're nothing less than inexcusable. But if I had the chance to go back, I'd probably do things the same way, only for one reason. Everything I ever did, I did it for you. I don't expect you to believe or even fully understand that – how could everything I did be for you if all I ever did was hurt you? _

_You told me that some things would never change; that I would never choose to step out for you. If that were my only choice; if it was the only one I ever had to make, I would've done it in a heartbeat for you. Every minute that I was away from you was nothing less than sheer torment. As I write this, you have no idea how badly I'm missing you. Your smile, your laugh, your sweet perfume – everything. _

_Over ten years ago, the first day that I locked eyes with you, the first day that you spoke my name – that very first day at the academy was the day I fell in love with you. I still remember that day so vividly. God, you were so beautiful. That very first morning, you were the subject of catcalls and whistles galore, but by the end of the day, you'd made sure that every single one of those guys knew that you could kick their asses, both in the classroom and in practicals. Never mind the first time they let us out on the range. You proved yourself, proved that you belonged there just as much, if not more than anyone else there, and that's part of what drew me to you. You're assertive; you know what you want, and you're not about to lay down and let anybody walk over you – if anything, you're the one pushing everyone else out of the way. And yet, even with all that determination, that resolve of yours, you always managed to hold onto that sweet, Southern charm that I fell in love with on that very first day. _

_You are beautiful, stunning, and just downright amazing, and I know I never did anything to deserve you. _

_You deserve so much better than me. _

_All I'm asking now is for the chance to tell you everything, even if I have to do it like this. If I never come back to you, I'll never have another chance. I need to know that you know all of this. I can't go out there believing that I'll take all of this to the grave with me. I need you to know, Calleigh. I need you to know. And like I said, I have no way of knowing whether you'll actually read this, but it's enough for me to know that I've finally gotten it all out there to you. It's enough to know that I finally gave the effort I should've been giving all along. But at the same time, it's not enough. It'll never be enough, because you deserve so much better. _

_You deserved more than the lies. You told me yourself, that was all our relationship was based upon – lies. Secrets and lies, and those started in the very beginning, over a decade ago. It was the nature of the work - you never got to know where I was or what I was doing, even when I would come home with scars that you would question – you knew I was in danger, but I never clued you in to anything beyond that. And maybe I should have told you more. Maybe I should've shared some of this with you – carrying all of this alone has damn near killed me after all these years. At the same time, though, that's what I never wanted for you. I never wanted to scare you, or inadvertently involve you in anything – you know some of what I had to do as a UC cop. As a UC cop, I broke nearly every law that you and I both swore to help uphold. And I didn't want you to be tainted by any of that, because let's be honest, some of it was the kind of thing that could ruin a career, and you have worked much too hard to get where you are now. I don't think I ever told you how much I admire you for that, and I should have. The odds were stacked against you from the beginning, and you just laughed and pushed yourself far beyond what anyone could have expected. Not once did I ever see you take the easy way out, something I have been guilty of too many times in my life. Too many times. _

_I never told you this either – you and me, we never really did this kind of thing; to be honest, I never really knew how. I didn't know how to tell you how much you really meant to me, and out of everything, I think that's the regret that follows me more closely than any other. I never wanted it to seem like I took you for granted, especially when it was the complete opposite. _

_I know what you thought was that I cared about the job more than I ever cared about you. I know you thought I was in love with the job, that I'd do anything for that damn UC gig, without ever once thinking about what it did to you. Not true. Not true at all, Calleigh, and I know my actions all say otherwise, and I can't blame you for thinking what you thought – it's not like I ever did anything to show you otherwise. Truth is, it damn near killed me every time I had to walk away from you. Every frown, every tear, every look of betrayal that I know without a doubt was because of me…you have no idea what that did to me. Knowing that I hurt you over and over again…believe me, I've carried the guilt of that for over ten years, everywhere I've gone. It hasn't gone away, and it definitely hasn't eased. All of this because I made one stupid decision over a decade ago, a decision that haunts me to this day, a decision that will probably continue to haunt me until the day I die. _

_I told you what happened that night in the alley with Sam, during one of my earliest assignments. I told you that I watched my own partner ruthlessly kill a man for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And I told you that I helped cover that up. And I told you that I gave up my own partner while leaving out the details of my own involvement. It wasn't because I was only looking out for myself that day, Cal. I was put in a position that left me completely backed into a corner. I know you've been interrogated by IAB in the past; take that, and multiply it by a few thousand, and maybe you can come close to understanding the pressure I was put under when I was interrogated. I was so close to my breaking point, and I made a rash decision, one that I made quickly and under the influence of fear, and to this day, I honestly can't say why I gave him up and didn't confess my own involvement. All I can say is that I was a kid, Calleigh. Catch a couple of preschoolers doing something wrong, and what's the first thing they do? Play innocent, blame the other kid, and hope they spilled before the other kid did. _

_I was a kid about to have the entire rest of my future taken away from me. I could literally see it fading away in front of me, and I did the first thing I could think of to do. All those years I'd been taught to think quickly yet rationally suddenly meant nothing. And why? Because I was petrified. They hit me with the one and only weakness I had – you._

Calleigh paused then, unaware she'd been holding her breath as she read until the burn in her lungs became painful. It wasn't, however, the burn in her lungs that led to the sharp intake of air she took, the gasp that seemed to echo in the room around her. Even before she continued, Calleigh somehow knew the confession that was to come would leave her head spinning and her heart pounding. And despite the trepidation that cloaked her, she knew she couldn't have stopped now if she'd wanted to._  
_

_I was determined not to let them crack me during the span of the "debriefing." That was what they called it, anyway, but it was exactly what I called it before – an interrogation. They did everything they could to break me, and I stood strong. Sam did as well, I assume, because otherwise the process would not have taken as long as it did. They were waiting for one of us to break – unfortunately for me, they discovered my weakness first. _

_I know you hate to hear this – it's rarely ever true, anyway – but you were wrong, Calleigh. Failure was not what I am most afraid of. My biggest fear, the one thing that completely petrifies me, is the idea of losing you for good. Forever. And that was the reality that I was faced with. _

_I can still hear the clap of his hand against the table in that stuffy room; I can still remember the smirk on his face when he lifted his hand, revealing pictures of you. You, doing mundane, everyday things – running errands, window-shopping, jogging. They were following you. For how long, I can't say. But definitely long enough to know your routines. And he threatened me – if I didn't talk, they were going to come after you. Extremely underhanded, unorthodox tactics, yeah, but that's the whole world of UC. There are no rules, and I knew that from the very beginning. I just never thought I would end up in that kind of situation. As soon as you were threatened, I gave up Sam. Just like that. _

_I did the one thing I knew how to do in that moment – try my best to protect you. I know, I know - you'll read that and shake your head, right? Because Calleigh Duquesne doesn't need to be protected. Calleigh Duquesne can take care of herself. _

The ghost of a smile tugged briefly at her lips - Jake knew her too well. If he'd ever said that to her in person, Calleigh was completely sure that would be her reaction - indignance. She did resent the idea of needing to be protected, and not only had Jake known that, but he'd respected it. And maybe, Calleigh couldn't help but wonder, that was part of the reason why she hadn't heard any of this until now.

_And yeah, you are strong, you always were. I don't want you to think that I ever thought otherwise. But did that mean I was going to just sit by and let you be put in the position where you had to prove you could protect yourself? Not a chance. If I did that, I couldn't live with myself. I turned on my partner because of a threat against you, a threat that may or may not have even been real – I wasn't going to take that chance, though. We were never careful, you and me. Back then, we didn't have rules forbidding us to see each other. Hell, I wanted to be seen with you – I wanted everybody to know that you were mine. We were always together, and that made it very easy for anybody to use the one thing that meant the most to me against me. They knew I wouldn't risk putting you in danger. They knew I'd give them what they wanted if they threatened to go after you, whether that threat was genuine or not. Even now, I still don't know if it was a bluff or not, but I couldn't take that chance. Not with you. _

_That was the beginning of the end, that day. When I was working UC as one of the Crypt Kings, I told you that to turn my back on them would be suicide – once you're in with them, once you swear to have their backs, you'd better mean it. And that was how my squad back in New Orleans was too – to a lesser degree, but like that nonetheless. After what I did, I was labeled a rat. I think it was all a test, a test that I failed miserably. If I turned my back on my partner when a cop threatened the one thing that meant the most to me, then I'd sure as hell turn my back on my partner if the bad guys were to do the same. I turned my back on my partner, and then my squad turned their backs on me. What good is a UC who gives up his secrets? At least, that's how they saw me. I was good, damn good, but it didn't matter. Anybody could find out what you meant to me; anybody could use that against me, and I would crumble just as easily as I had the first time. _

_After all of that, I tried to walk away. As much as I enjoyed the thrill of being someone I wasn't, of playing a dangerous role, I didn't want any part of it if that was how things were going to be. I did try, but UC…once you're in, it's not always the easiest thing to walk away from. Especially when you've been labeled as a rat, especially when every single cop you work beside of day after day wants nothing more than to make your life miserable, nothing more than to make you pay for turning your back on your brother. My transfer paperwork was repeatedly lost, deemed incomplete, or just flat-out unaccepted, and I don't know how much of that was because of what happened in the alley that night, and how much of it was because of what I said that day. I couldn't leave. And my assignments rapidly grew more and more dangerous, far more quickly than they should have. I was trapped. I made one mistake and it trapped me for the rest of my career. And it wasn't long after that that you and I, we started to crumble. I was stressed, you were stressed, I was always gone, you were always worried. And there was nothing I could do – I was going to lose you, no matter what I did. The choice I was faced with ripped me in half, Calleigh. I could take a chance with your life, based on threats that may or may not have been genuine, or I could let you go. I turned my back on you and let you walk away because it was the only way I knew to keep you safe. I wanted you, God I wanted you. But I would die before I ever put you in danger. _

_I sacrificed my freedom and my desires for a guarantee of your safety, and damn it, I would do it all again in a heartbeat. If something ever happened to you because of me, I don't know what I would do. My recklessness, my foolishness, hell, my childishness – if something were to happen to you because of any of that, it would kill me. I know you thought I didn't care about you, about us, but the truth is, I don't think it was possible for me to care more. I lost my best friend, and my family, well, you know how family can be. You were all I had, Calleigh. You were everything. You _are_ everything. _

_When I lost you, when I realized you'd left New Orleans for good, I became reckless. I threw myself into the UC work and threw caution out the window. I did a lot of things that I'm not at all proud of; things that could cost me more than my career were I not actually on the clock. I did what I had to do to stay alive; at the same time, I did what I had to do to forget everything that had brought me to that point. _

_And then, after nearly a decade of playing just far enough on the dark side to convince even the most suspicious of the gangs I'd infiltrated, I was offered a prime assignment, one that would get me out of New Orleans for good. As much as I wanted to get out of UC, I have to admit that I jumped at the chance to get in with the Crypt Kings. Not for the bikes, not for the thrills, but because I knew they operated out of Miami. I knew that this would put me in Miami for quite some time – it wasn't supposed to be a quick job, and it wasn't – I was here for almost a year before you and I ever crossed paths. And that was the chance I was banking on – I knew you'd ended up here, and I knew there was that slim chance that we'd actually run into each other. You're a cop, and I was playing the bad guy – it's not like the scenario was impossible. I didn't really expect it, but I hoped. I hoped, and that was what kept me going during those hot days, the long nights that felt utterly endless. _

_It paid off one muggy afternoon in early October. I won't soon forget the day you stormed into that warehouse with the same confidence, the same authority you'd held on that very first day at the academy, and that was all I needed to see. Scrounging around with the Crypt Kings wasn't my favorite way to spend my time, but seeing you again made it all worth it. Maybe that's why I let you take me down that day. Because I did. I let you take me down. I could've stopped you if I'd wanted to._

Half laughter, half sob - it was the sound that escaped Calleigh's lips as her eyes took in those words. It was one of the first things he'd said to her when their paths had crossed again; he'd been so quick to remind her that she'd always faltered around him, that her fixation with him was what had cost her the number one spot in their academy class. He'd never really stopped teasing her over that. And anytime she _had_ managed to beat him at anything, his insistence had been that he'd let her win just so she wouldn't feel bad. It was maddening at times...but even so, seeing it now without being able to hear his playful voice was like a knife to the heart. _  
_

_Thing is, I didn't want to stop you. And later, when you sat across the table from me in that interrogation room that day, I was the cocky, arrogant jerk you'd accused me of being years ago, but that was who I had to be. I couldn't give anything away, least of all what was just underneath all of that. Underneath all of that, I knew that nothing had changed for me – ten years had made no difference at all. I was still in love with you. Trying to get over you, trying to forget you; all that was useless. I guess I tricked myself into thinking I could, but I don't think I could ever trick myself into believing that there would ever be anybody else who could ever be the same for me as you. _

_The story is that you guys blew my cover with the Crypt Kings – not true. They were suspicious, and having MDPD lurking around didn't help things, but they never really discovered who I was. Or maybe they did, I don't know – I stopped showing up. I just stopped. It was dangerous, but they only knew me under an alias so I assumed I'd be safe enough, especially given that I was in a new city. So I tried again to transfer out, and finally ended up working homicide. I figured that was it, that my past was back in New Orleans, that I'd finally escaped from that. I thought that finally it was done. _

_I never thought for a second though that you would actually give me a second chance. I wanted it more than anything; I wanted to show you everything I failed to show you before. I wanted to finally give you everything I wasn't able to give you before; I wanted to prove to you that I could be the person you deserved to be with. But I never really thought that you would give me that second chance; Lord knows I never deserved that much from you. And I have no idea what I was thinking that day when I kissed you in the middle of the lab. I wasn't thinking; I just couldn't _not_ do it. _

_And even after I took you to dinner that night, I just knew you were going to let me down at your doorstep – I didn't have high expectations. So I never, ever dreamed that you would take my hand and pull me inside; never dreamed that I'd wake up beside of you the next morning. After so long away from you, it was all I could do to even move from that spot. I thought it couldn't get any better than that, but then, slowly but surely, it seemed like things were starting to fall into place for us again. My things were scattered around your condo, you had things at my place, and it felt completely natural. I don't know about you, but for me, everything just felt right, and that's not something I've felt very often in my life – something that only ever seemed to happen when I was with you. _

_And then, things started to change again. I discovered the hard way that the past never really leaves you alone – you piss off someone dearly enough, they're going to make sure you pay your debts completely. Apparently, I hadn't, at least not to their satisfaction. I should have told you everything when I realized what was happening – I didn't, though, because I tried everything I could to get out of it. My transfer to homicide didn't go through as smoothly as I'd thought – apparently, I was working both. UC and homicide, and an assignment could come up at any time. They made sure that I knew they still owned me. Ironic, really – they didn't want anything to do with me, but they weren't about to let me go. My ultimatum was one last assignment, and you were right when you accused me of never having any intention of telling you about it, but it's not because I wanted to go behind your back to do it. I knew what it would do to you, Cal. To us. And I'd promised myself that I was never going to break your heart again. _

_This was to be my final assignment – the terms were laid out plainly for me. I was a liability, I guess – like I said, they didn't want anything to do with me; I was more trouble than what I was worth to them, but in the end, I guess they figured I knew too much. This final assignment was an assignment no one else was willing to take, and if I completed it, I was done. No one else would take it. No one. The deal was that if I took it and completed it, I could walk away cleanly; I could have my life back. First, I had to make it out alive, and that was why no one wanted to take this assignment. The odds were stacked too far against whoever went in; it was more dangerous than anything I've ever done before. I was told flat-out that there was almost no chance of me making it out alive; the squad never wanted me to make it out alive. Nice to see that in ten years some things really do stay the same, even if those things do have to be those underhanded and unorthodox methods. You know as well as I do that, even though we're supposed to be the good guys, cops don't necessarily always play by the rules, especially UC. _

_Calleigh, I know you found that envelope, the one with the details of this assignment in it. I know you probably thought that, after a few months of homicide, I must have been itching to get back to UC. I wasn't. I never wanted to see that part of my past again. It was too risky to go back to, and I wanted more than that. I wanted to finally have some stability in my life. I wanted the certainty rather than the uncertainty, the unpredictability, the volatility. And mostly, I just wanted you. You. I wanted a life with you. I had all these dreams, these wishes that you probably never even imagined I was capable of having. I wanted my life to mean something; I wanted to wake up in the morning and know that you were still sleeping beside of me. I wanted to marry you, start a family with you. Things I had never even given a second thought to until I met you. _

She almost dropped the letter right out of her hands when a sudden image of Hailey flashed unexpectedly before her eyes. Her heart clenched; the butterflies in her stomach fluttered almost frantically. Her gaze flowed over that same paragraph again, though this time only the words danced in front of her eyes - but even that was enough to stun her, visions of Hailey or not. The Jake Berkeley she knew didn't really believe in marriage. The Jake Berkeley she knew had never even professed to wanting kids. And yet, it was here, all written out for her, and even Calleigh couldn't deny how the revelation managed to steal her breath. _  
_

_Ten years ago, I was barely anything more than a stupid kid, a kid who made a few more mistakes than I knew how to deal with, a kid who got in too far over my head. A kid who knew little more than one thing and only one thing – I was so in love with you, Cal. So in love with you that it terrified me. But if it terrified me back then, there are no words for what it does to me now. I love you. I love you, more than you'll probably ever know, and God, I can't even imagine my life without you. I fell head over heels for you back at the academy and I never, ever came back from that. _

_I told you once, while you were sleeping. I wish I hadn't been such a coward; I wish I'd told you when you would hear me. Because now, I might never get the chance to say it, and that eats me alive. The pain is unbearable, you have no idea. That, and the knowledge that I hurt you so, so much – it haunts me every day. There's not a minute that I don't think about that; not a minute in any day that I don't think of you. You always joked about how I thought so highly of myself – truth is, I hate myself more than you could ever imagine. I hate that you gave me a second chance and I was stupid enough to screw it up just like the first time. I hate that I even needed a second chance; that I ever hurt you to begin with. I hate that I couldn't tell you what you meant to me, even when I knew I was losing you._

_I keep thinking back to that night. That night I came home from New Orleans and found you sleeping on the couch. That night I carried you to bed, that night you reached for me and asked me not to go. I didn't sleep that night, Cal. Didn't sleep at all because I was afraid of waking up and not being with you. Ironic, right? I'm the one who always left you behind and there I was afraid you would simply disappear out of my arms. I was only half-wrong, though – that next morning was the morning you told me to get out._

If on paper the words seemed cold and cruel, hearing them in her voice must have been a thousand times worse. Calleigh couldn't help but flinch; she'd been so caught up in protecting her heart from all of Jake's lies and secrets that she hadn't given any consideration to Jake's heart – or maybe she hadn't really cared at all. _He_ hadn't cared about hurting her…or so she'd believed.

_I try not to think about that, though, because it hurts too much. Instead, I think about the night before. Maybe if I hadn't been so afraid, I would have told you how I felt while you were awake, instead of being the coward that I am and waiting until you were asleep. What was I afraid of? You saying it back? You not saying it back? I don't know; I don't think I'll ever know. The only thing I really know is that what I said was true – I love you, and as I lay awake holding you that night, there was no question about it in my mind. You're the only one I've ever loved; the only one I could love. I can't imagine not loving you._

_I am so, so incredibly sorry that I ever hurt you, that I repeatedly hurt you. I never deserved you – I took your heart and smashed it on the ground in front of you, and then I walked away. I turned my back and walked away from you, and for that, you can't imagine just how sorry I am, how terrible I still feel because of that. I may have had my reasons, but that doesn't help me sleep any better at night. _

_All I ever wanted to do was protect you. Because that's what you do when you love someone – you try your damndest to protect them from everything. Even when that person happens to be as stubborn and as strong-willed as you, Cal. I needed to know that I was protecting you, if not for you, then for me, just so I would know you were safe. I couldn't live knowing that I'd put you in danger, knowing that I'd put your life on the line. I have lost so damn much because of this job. I was not going to sacrifice your life. I would take a bullet for you, I'd jump in front of a speeding car for you. Hell, I would do anything for you._

_I told you, both in person and in this letter, that I've done a lot of things over the years that I ended up regretting. I might have been on the wrong side of the law more than on the right, but in UC, you do what you have to do to survive. And most of all, I did what I had to do to assure myself I could come home to you; after you were gone, I did what I had to do to assure myself that I could live another day, another day with another possibility of someday finding you again. It sounds corny, but you were the reason behind everything I ever did. You're still the reason for everything that I do. _

_And you're the reason I'm writing this letter, even though I know you may never read it, not with the way I left you. I'm writing this because you deserve to know the truth. Because I'm sorry. And most of all, because I love you. Because I've always loved you. Because I love you with everything that I am. _

_And because maybe one day you might forgive me. It's the last thing I deserve, but I've never met anyone with a purer heart than you. _

At that, Calleigh couldn't help but flinch, feeling the guilt pour into her like a waterfall, burning her from the inside out. There was nothing, _nothing_ pure about her heart – her own guilt told her that, Eric had basically spelled it out for her, and lest she forget the goodbye – not that it could really be called _good_ – that she'd given Jake. She'd wanted him out of her life, hadn't she? She'd wanted him out of her life just so she wouldn't have to make that choice, the one she'd dreaded and put off for almost two years. And _that_ had only led to the breaking of three hearts – certainly, she could find _nothing_ pure about what remained of her own heart.

Her stomach gave a sickening jolt at the thought that _that_ was how Jake saw her. If his written words held more water than the spoken word, she was nothing less than perfection to him. Beautiful. Special. A pure heart. None of that was anything Calleigh could claim right now – she couldn't even fully describe how she _did_ feel, but she was certain none of those words would fit; they were just too far opposite.

And she was trembling. Calleigh hadn't realized it until she turned her eyes back to the page to continue reading, but found the words blurred due to her inability to hold the letter still. She wasn't even sure _why_ she was trembling until her vision cleared, seemingly focusing on three simple words sprinkled throughout that letter.

_I love you_.

The words crashed over her like a wave from the ocean, flooding her with more emotion than she could possibly ever define. If she closed her eyes, she would swear she could almost hear the words, whispered in his quiet voice, the voice that never failed to give her chills. His breath against her skin; his lips on her forehead, her temple, her lips. His arms wrapped tightly around her, enveloping her snugly in his embrace whether standing on the beach or laying together in her bed. And those words…every word he'd written, each one spoken aloud, his voice to her ears, from her ears directly to hear heart. And there they took up residence, warming her, yet chilling her at the same time.

There was no question about it in her mind – this had clearly taken a lot out of Jake. He _could_, on occasion, be verbose, but usually only when he was absolutely certain of his abilities. Never when he was speaking of emotions, or anything near as deep as what Calleigh had just read. And that brought another chilling truth before Calleigh's eyes – Jake was sometimes guilty of exaggeration, but all that Calleigh had read…somehow, she knew without a doubt that there wasn't a single word in that letter that bore anything less than the truth.

And that was enough to leave her stunned. She couldn't say what she had been expecting; she'd had no idea at all, but what she'd found had been so beyond anything she could have imagined. Calleigh had thought perhaps a short, simple apology, an _I had to do this, _a declaration of no regrets. Apologies, but littered with excuses and reasons that she'd heard time and time again; excuses and reasons she'd stopped believing ten years ago.

But there was none of that. Apologies, yes. Reasons too, but the reasons were anything but excuses. It all made sense; his explanations didn't feel as if there were holes or missing pieces – they felt _complete_. Calleigh wasn't sure what made a written explanation more believable than anything that had ever come out of his mouth, but there was something, just _something_. Something that brought tears to her eyes and a quiver to her fingers, a chill to her spine.

There was always, as the darkest corner of her mind reminded her, the possibility that this letter was just as fictitious as the cover stories he'd fabricated for her in the past. Tigers didn't change their stripes, after all – once a liar, always a liar; once a heartbreaker, always a heartbreaker. But if this…if all of what he had written was true, then perhaps he'd _never_ been the cold-hearted, arrogant liar she'd accused him of being. Closing her eyes, she desperately tried to draw up memories from the past, memories that were over a decade old, but in her state of exhaustion, her brain simply seemed not to work. She _did_ remember the look in his eyes when finally he'd come home from the assignment that had changed everything – the word that had flashed through her mind even then had been _haunted_. He'd said nothing about it then, just that the assignment had been long and hard, and that he and his partner had run into some complications during the debriefing. Had he watched her just a little longer than usual during dinner that evening? Had he been a little more attentive to her in bed that night? Had he held her a little tighter? She couldn't remember no matter how hard she wracked her brain, and in the end, she wasn't sure if that was because of the exhaustion, or because she had blocked out so very much of her time with Jake after he'd broken her heart.

And she _had_ blocked out quite a bit. The good memories, she'd forced herself to forget; the bad, she'd just ignored until they'd faded away. It left her with very little to compare with; most of the memories she _could_ draw immediately to mind were memories from just the past year and a half. The shock she'd felt when her eyes locked with his that day in the warehouse; her own cold declaration of how some things just never change. The surge of unexpected jealousy she'd felt when she'd seen his picture with a young girl on a suspect's phone. The cautious – _so_ cautious – feeling of glee that had descended upon her when he'd promised to work harder and finish work faster so they could finally share the dinner they'd been planning for weeks. The heartache, the betrayal she'd felt when she found that envelope of his; the nausea and disbelief that had settled in behind it. She'd been so hurt; she'd felt tricked. It was almost as though Jake simply wanted a little bit of everything – her, and his alternate life. And her immediate belief had been that he'd gone behind her back to ensure that he could have both. Secrets and lies, all over again.

She'd expected to find closure in packing up his things for him; she'd expected to find peace when he collected his things and removed them from her condo. But what she had felt was closer to emptiness than any kind of closure. The selfishness that had led her to hold on to his medallion; the guilt she'd felt when he finally revealed the story behind it. And oh, the confusion…

She'd left the safety of her desk behind in favor of rushing forward and all but throwing herself into his arms that day, the day he'd said his final goodbye. Her emotions had been at war within her; his arms felt nice around her, but they _shouldn't_. His voice had sounded beautiful to her ears, but it _shouldn't_ have. His lips had felt wonderful against hers, but they _shouldn't_ have. And then he had turned his back to leave, one last time, and even now Calleigh wasn't sure she could lend a name to _everything_ she had felt, watching him walk away from her.

And now, this letter…confessions that had remained unspoken for years. What if she had found it earlier? What if she had found it before he'd left for good? Would she have gone to him? Tried to stop him? Let him go believing he would come back? How much danger was he in out there; could she even truly comprehend that? Where was he; would she ever even know that? What if there was the slightest bit of truth to the nightmare she'd experienced? What if he was suffering alone, slowly bleeding out, engulfed in excruciating pain somewhere?

Was it possible that he wasn't even alive?

If she'd faced her fears sooner and opened the letter when Eric had first brought it to her, would that have made any difference to _anything_?

The questions rushed through her head at a dizzying speed, only to give way to even more that would never find their answers.

It was too much all at once, and Calleigh could do more than simply remain in the foyer, sitting against the wall on the cold tile floor, blurry eyes staring at the pages in her hands, the words on those pages. Slowly, so slowly, she allowed the letter to slip from her trembling fingers page by page to the floor. The last page, though, she held onto – in stark contrast to all the others, it was nearly blank, save for a single sentence adorning the center of the page. His way of closing a letter that had ended rather abruptly on the previous page – no closing, not even a concluding statement. In fact, it was almost as though a page had been missing, but then again, as Calleigh realized with the sting of tears in her eyes, the two of them had never really been too good at goodbyes…and maybe that was part of why their paths, their lives, had yet to fully separate, even after ten full years apart.

Sitting there in the foyer, Calleigh had failed to comprehend the passage of time until twilight began to break in the eastern sky, slowly clearing away the darkness of night and burning away the fog that had settled in during the overnight hours. Tendrils of first light reached for her, spilling through the windows on either side of the front door, enveloping her tired body in the soft glow of daybreak. But even as the sun itself finally peeked over the horizon in a magnificent sunrise, Calleigh found she could not even afford it a momentary glance – her gaze was fixed upon the final words of that letter, the last words that might ever come from Jake Berkeley. And as the gravity of that truth pressed upon her, the words begin to swim before her blurry eyes as tears once more obstructed her vision.

_I know you likely don't believe any of this, and I doubt I'll ever get the chance to prove it to you – I guess I let that chance slip away from me a long time ago, but there was never a time, never a second of any day that I didn't love you. _


End file.
